Mr & Mrs Gibbs
by Jo. R
Summary: When two marines are murdered, their wives abducted, Mr & Mrs Gibbs go undercover to catch a killer.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Mr & Mrs Gibbs  
Author: Jo. R  
Rating: FR-15 unless otherwise stated.  
Pairing: Abby/Gibbs  
Category: Romance, Drama, Case-file, friendship  
Spoilers: 'Forced Entry'  
Summary: Two marines are dead, their wives missing. Mr. & Mrs. Gibbs go undercover to catch a killer.

With thanks to lady4gibbs.

****

Shopping had never been a real chore for her but shopping for a wedding dress was something else altogether – something she never thought she'd have to do, either. Ziva David seemed more excited than she did – relieved, perhaps, that the crutches she was using to manoeuvre herself around meant they weren't looking for a dress for her.

Realistically, Abby Sciuto knew the nerves she felt were ridiculous. It wasn't as if she was really getting married so why she felt like a blushing bride, she couldn't explain. Yes, the wedding vows would be real. And yes, they'd be said in front of a real minister. They had to be.

It was too much of a coincidence that the two couples involved in the case had been wed in the same place with the same people present. They'd stayed at the same hotel as part of their honeymoon package, booked through the same agency. They'd moved to the same military base after their weekend away, though had lived at different ends and led separate lives from that point on – up until the husbands had been found murdered, their wives missing.

Abby had been reassured that the vows could and would be easily annulled once the case was over. Due to the fact it was all for show and their vows weren't going to be consummated, it would be easy to end the marriage as though it'd never existed in the first place.

She wasn't disappointed by that. Or she told herself she wasn't, anyway.

It was a business arrangement, pure and simple, and it would be best for all involved if she kept reminding herself of that.

*****

Standing at the altar wasn't an altogether new experience for him. He had, after all, been married four times before.

Waiting for his bride, his wife-to-be, Leroy Jethro Gibbs couldn't help but think back on the times he'd stood in front of a minister before and said his 'I do's'.

He'd meant his vows each and every time he'd said them, though three of his four marriages had ended in divorce. He'd loved each of his wives in their own way though in most cases those feelings had petered out like the flames of a fire. His feelings for his first wife, the only one he hadn't divorced, were still there and he knew they always would be; Shannon would always be part of him. Loving her, and losing her, had made him the man he was today.

He thought of Shannon as he stood there, pictured her smiling eyes and gorgeous red hair. He remembered being a nervous groom at their wedding, unable to believe it was really happening. His hands had been damp, his mouth dry, and she'd been the most beautiful person he'd ever laid his eyes on.

After she'd given birth to their daughter, Kelly, who'd died with her mother, Gibbs had decided there was room in his heart for both of them to hold the title of most beautiful person.

Turning around when the music started to play in the small chapel, he found himself deciding to amend that to three.

*****

The dress she wore was cream in colour, demure but undeniably feminine. It was satin and glided over her curves, hinting at what lay beneath. It flared out just a little and the bodice of antique lace and embroidery hugged her body close before narrowing into two delicate looking straps. Flowers – daisies or sunflowers, he couldn't sure which, were embroidered in the flowing skirt starting a few inches before the hem kissed the floor.

She was beautiful, literally breath-taking, and she was going to be his wife.

'It's just an act,' Gibbs told himself, reminding himself to breathe as Abby glided down the aisle towards him, her hair styled in loose curls, half-up, half-down, around her naturally made up face. 'It's not real.'

That didn't stop his heart from skipping a beat when she gave him a shy, almost uncertain smile and moved to stand beside him.

He found himself wiping his hands on the pants of his dress uniform before he realised what he was doing and realised, belatedly, that his mouth was indeed dry.

Like his first wedding, he thought, only with a black-haired beauty at his side in place of the ravishing redhead who'd won his heart all those years ago. Like then, he couldn't really believe he was standing there, exchanging vows with Abigail Sciuto, promising to love, honour and protect her for the rest of his life.

Vows he promised he'd keep, even when the charade was over.

*****

Fidgeting with the band of entwined white and yellow gold around her finger, Abby could help but glance over at the man sitting beside her.

Her husband.

Even as she reminded herself that it wasn't real, her heart gave a little flutter in her chest.

"You okay?" Sensing her gaze, Gibbs glanced over at her. He gave her a small smile, obviously reading something on her face. "I know this is above and beyond the call of duty for you, Abs, but I appreciate it."

'Duty...?' Abby smiled a little too brightly. "It's not a problem, Gi—Jethro. Sorry," she added with an eye roll. "It might take me a bit of time to get used to calling you that."

"We can explain it away if you slip up." He shrugged his shoulders. "It'll be okay, Abby."

"I just don't want to mess it up," Abby murmured, pulling her gaze away from him to look out of the window. "I know I'm not your first choice in this, and I still don't know how you talked the Director into letting me be part of it..."

"Abby." The tone of his voice, the sigh with which it was said, had her turning to look at him again. Anything else he was going to say was forgotten, however, as he pulled up in front of the three-storey hotel and looked to the valet waiting to greet them. "Let's get this started."

Gibbs got out of the car and handed the keys to the uniformed man waiting for them. He let the porter grab their bags from the boot and walked around to her side, opening the door and taking her hand in his.

Squeezing her fingers, he led her through the lobby to the reception desk.

"Hello, Sir, Ma'am." The receptionist, a pretty brunette, smiled at them expectantly. "Do you have reservations?"

Gibbs gave Abby a quick smile and wrapped an arm around her waist, drawing her to his side. "The name's Gibbs. Mr and Mrs. Gibbs."

The receptionist typed their names into the computer and beamed at them brightly when their reservation appeared. Abby bit her lip, her stomach flipping over.

Mr. and Mrs. Gibbs indeed.

*****


	2. Chapter 2

_Wow, thanks to everyone for the reviews so far - you guys rock! Hope you keep enjoying the story - I've got no idea where it's going but it should be fun to find out!_

*****

Their room was everything a hotel honeymoon suite should be. Plush and comfortable, well furnished and beautifully decorated.

Abby turned around in a full circle, forcing herself not to think about the lone king-size bed that she'd seen through the double doors leading into the bedroom and arched her eyebrows as Gibbs tipped the porter and closed the door behind him, leaving the newlyweds alone.

"This is completely out of my league," she remarked, her shoulders slumping as she relaxed. It was just the two of them, after all, and he was still Gibbs, her silver-haired fox, friend and confidant. "I'd never in a million years have pictured myself staying somewhere like this. I don't even want to know how much this place is costing."

Gibbs grinned at her, amused by her reaction. "It's probably best if you don't," he murmured, moving to stand beside her as she surveyed the room. "McGee and DiNozzo checked the room out earlier. No bugs. You're free to say whatever you want when we're here. Outside of the room..."

"Outside of the room, I'm Mrs. Gibbs. The fifth," she added with a teasing smile to set them both at ease when her words gave them both a jolt. 'Maybe the final,' she added to herself before snorting indelicately. 'In your dreams, Abby. In your dreams.' At Gibbs' questioning look, Abby shrugged and moved to the balcony attached to their room. She stepped out onto it, momentarily startled when he moved behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist lightly. "Gibbs...?"

"We're probably being watched," he murmured, dipping his head so his mouth was dangerously close to her ear. If he felt her shiver, he didn't say anything and if she felt his arms tighten around her, she chose not to comment on it. "We've got dinner reservations at six. If you want to take a look around the hotel..."

Turning in his arms, winding her own around his neck, Abby told herself she wasn't enjoying being so close to him nor was she reading his expression accurately when it looked – for a split second – as though he wanted to kiss her. 'Wishful thinking.' "It'll be more convincing if we stay out of sight," she whispered in response, almost as if she was afraid of being overheard. "The hotel has hundreds of cable channels. I'm sure we'll find some way of entertaining ourselves..."

She took his hand and led him into their room, dropping it as soon as they were out of sight of anyone watching with a faintly apologetic smile. She curled up on the sofa opposite the TV in the main room of the hotel suite, focusing herself to focus on the characters that appeared on screen instead of Gibbs as he disappeared into the bedroom area of their room, bags in hand.

*****

Dinner was supposed to be a casual affair. Gibbs dressed first in the suit he'd only just remembered to pack, sitting in the main area of their suite while he waited for Abby to get ready. When she walked out of their bedroom, his jaw dropped for the second time in one day.

Clad in an emerald green dress that brought out the green of her eyes perfectly and complimented the combination of pale skin and rich, dark hair, Abby strode into the living room with a hand on her emerald-satin covered hip.

"It's still me, Gibbs, don't look so worried." Her laugh, he thought, sounded a little nervous to his ears but he let it slide. He watched her look down at herself. "I can change into something else if you don't think..."

"It's fine. You look... fine. Great." He gave himself a mental shake and smiled at her as he stood. "Green suits you."

Abby shrugged off the compliment but a light blush stole across her cheeks. "Ziva helped me pick it out. My usual wardrobe doesn't really fit the profile of a marine's wife."

He bit his tongue, a sceptical eyebrow arched, but said nothing. "You ready to go?"

After one last glance down at herself, Abby nodded and took the arm he offered her with a small smile. "As ready as I'll ever be."

*****

Sunlight streamed through a gap in the plush curtains but it wasn't the warmth against her skin that woke her. Abby stirred slowly, the satin nightdress Ziva had insisted she buy for her wedding night tangling around her legs as she twisted in the arms that had held her all night. She mumbled something her companion couldn't decipher against his bare chest, nuzzling her cheek against the slight smattering of chest hair before her eyelids fluttered open.

She froze instantly, despite the fingers that stroked the small of her back reassuringly. "Gibbs...?"

"Morning." The hand stopped moving and she shifted so she could look up into sharp blue eyes that were clear despite the earliness of the hour. The corners of his lips quirked a little but there was otherwise no reaction on his face that suggested waking up together was anything but a normal, everyday occurrence. "Sleep well?"

There was no awkwardness or discomfort in the way he spoke – or in the way he lay beneath her, as calm and unruffled as ever. Abby disentangled herself from his arms, struggling a little to separate her limbs from his as she settled in the bed beside him, her head resting on her own pillow as she curled up on her side. "Surprisingly, yeah."

It came back to her slowly and she told herself she didn't feel a surge of disappointment that waking up in bed beside – on top of -her silver-haired fox meant nothing but part of an elaborate act. She remembered drinking a glass or two of wine with their evening meal, following the complimentary glass of champagne the hotel had given them to celebrate their nuptials. 'Bad idea, Abs, bad idea.'

At that moment, Abby didn't know if she wanted to thank or curse the Mossad agent for badly spraining her ankle and she certainly didn't want to dwell on why the thought of Ziva waking up in bed beside Gibbs made her stomach churn unpleasantly.

"So what are the plans for today?" She closed her eyes rather than look at his sleep-mused hair and bare chest any longer than she had to. The temptation to run her fingers through that hair, to snuggle up to his chest and pretend they weren't playing make believe was hard enough to resist already. "What did our missing couples get up to when they were here, besides the obvious?"

Originally, Ziva was supposed to go undercover with Gibbs. A profile of both couples revealed an age gap between the married partners and it was decided that while Tony DiNozzo and Tim McGee were perfectly capable of handling the operation, Gibbs was a better match for the husbands while Ziva, being several years younger than him, would be suitable to pose as his wife.

Until Ziva's accident, that was, though why she'd been picking McGee up the morning she'd tripped over his dog was still a mystery to Abby.

"You get to spend the day at the spa," Gibbs told her, his voice sounding strangely loud in the otherwise quiet room. "I get to spend the day in the gym and we meet up back here later."

"Sounds like I get the best part of that deal." Abby cracked open an eye to look at him. "I've got to wear the earpiece in the spa, right? So I can still hear the others even if you won't be with me to translate to...?"

It was one of the benefits of having Abby directly involved in the assignment, her ability to communicate with Gibbs without needing to speak aloud. They were both well versed in American Sign Language and it'd been decided that Abby would wear an earpiece that would allow her to hear what the team in the back-up hotel room were saying. She could then keep Gibbs updated via sign language, adding another believable dimension to their cover story that she was slightly hearing impaired.

"Use your judgement. Wear it unless you decide to go swimming or do something else where it's not needed." He sat up and she felt the bed dip beneath his weight as it was unevenly distributed over the mattress. She felt more than saw him stand though turned her head to the side to get a sneaky glimpse of his boxers-covered butt as he walked away from the bed towards the adjoining bathroom. "Order breakfast if you're hungry. Just charge it to the room."

The door closed behind him softly and a few moments later, Abby heard the sound of the shower turning on. She reached out for the phone, contacting room service, before setting the receiver back in its cradle and reaching instead for the pillow he'd slept on the night before. Drawing it against her, she curled her body around it and closed her eyes, inhaling the scent that still lingered in the sheets around her.

It wasn't her first undercover assignment and not even the first where she used Gibbs' name as her own.

Somehow, though, she got the feeling that it would be the one she would always remember.

*****

The shower did little to ease the tension in his body, despite his having turned the temperature down as low as he could stand. Cool water ran over his naked body, rivulets running down his arms and legs and chest as he closed his eyes and let his hands rest against the tiled walls.

Not for the first time, Gibbs cursed the fact that it was Abby he woke up with.

With Ziva, he could've kept things professional. Sure, she was a beautiful woman – gorgeous, in fact – but she was one of his agents, one of the team, and he didn't feel the same draw to her as he did to his forensic scientist.

With Ziva sleeping beside him, he wouldn't have had to keep himself awake to make sure he kept his hands to himself. With Abby... Her scent tempting him, her body curling around and over his as she slept, the softness of her, the warmth... It'd taken every ounce of self-control he had not to roll her over and kiss her the way she seemed to be asking him to as she slept.

He had a sneaking suspicion working undercover with Abby as his constant companion was going to prove more difficult than he'd first thought. The case itself he was sure he could handle. The extra time with the black-haired scientist, not so much.

He shut off the shower with a sigh, dressing as quickly as he could in the cool but steamy bathroom. He caught a glimpse of her open make-up bag next to his shaving kit on the counter next to the sink and caught the smile that automatically curved up his lips when he looked up and glimpsed his reflection.

Being around her was easy, *too* easy, and therein, Gibbs thought, lay the problem.

Someone was knocking on the door to their hotel room when he exited the bathroom. A quick glance at Abby had him smiling again; the sight of her wrapped around his pillow was an endearing one. He moved quickly throughout the room, determined to answer the door before it woke her.

He let the porter in the smart hotel uniform bring in their food, tipped him generously and closed the door securely behind him.

It was then he reminded himself that he was working a case, no matter how much it felt like a vacation.

Only then he remembered that Abby's life was in danger and it was his job, as always, to keep her safe.

*****


	3. Chapter 3

*****

The three remaining members of Gibbs' team sat in their own hotel suite. It wasn't as luxurious as the one Gibbs and Abby rested in; about half the nightly rate, too, but none of them were about to complain. Ziva David sat on the sofa, her bandaged foot resting on the small coffee table as her arms rested on her stomach, one sporting a matching bandage. Tim McGee sat beside her, throwing her apologetic, guilty glances every so often, his teeth toying with his bottom lip. Tony DiNozzo sat at the table in front of one of their laptops, waiting impatiently for the mics and earpiece to come online so they could begin their next shift.

"I wonder what they're doing." Tony leaned back in his chair – as far back as his headphones would let him. "I never took Gibbs to be the kind to lie in."

"He is playing a man on his honeymoon, yes?" Ziva shrugged one shoulder, adopting a uninterested expression. "Surely it is more convincing for him and Abby to remain out of sight for as long as possible this morning?"

"Out of sight, sure, but out of contact?" Tony shook his head and glared at the laptop as though it was responsible for his boredom. "Maybe they're still asleep. You don't think..."

"No, Tony. Get your mind out of the gutter for once." McGee rolled his eyes, glancing at Ziva as though he expected her to agree but the Israeli only shrugged her shoulders again, her expression calm. "You don't seriously think...?"

Ziva allowed herself a small smirk. "It is none of our business either way," she pointed out with a smile.

*"I second that."* The voice came from the speakers of the laptop and sounded only a little amused. *"DiNozzo, get yourself down to the hotel gym in ten minutes. McGee, find an excuse to check out the spa. Ziva, you monitor everything from the room."*

"The gym and spa, boss?" Tony exchanged a look with McGee, while Ziva allowed herself a moment of smugness that she hadn't been caught debating their boss's love-life.

*"We're following the pattern of the previous victims. If our murderer chose them based on their time at the hotel, we have to do what they did."* There was a slight rustling sound as Gibbs moved to confer briefly with Abby. *"We won't be able to keep the mics on all the time but Abby'll keep her earpiece for as long as she can. Keep her updated and have the front desk page me if you see anyone acting suspicious."*

"On it, boss." Tony waited a beat before turning to his teammates, a small grin on his face. "Looks like you'll be missing out on the action, Ziva. Maybe McGoo can get you a present from the spa to make it up to you."

McGee glared at him while Ziva refused to be baited. "I am quite happy here, Tony. Thank you for your concern." She gave him a smile that was too sweet to be genuine. "I would prefer to be in a nice, cool air-conditioned room than in a stuffy, smelly gym all day."

Tony was unable to come up with a suitable retort. He excused himself to his room and emerged a few minutes later with his gym bag thrown over his shoulder. Once he'd left, McGee turned to Ziva, an apologetic look on his face once more.

"Ziva, I'm so sorry..."

She cut him off mid-sentence, shaking her head. "Please stop apologising, McGee. It is not your fault."

"It was my..."

"McGee. Gibbs will not be happy if you leave Abby unprotected for long." She softened the sharpness of her words with a small smile. "If you would like to make it up to me, you can make sure you do not forget to bring me some lunch later."

McGee gave her a nod of agreement but the guilt didn't shift from his face. He, too, left her after a few moments and Ziva leaned back against the couch with a sigh.

Peace at last.

*****

She bit her lip against the moan that tried to escape, her eyes closed tightly as the strong but gentle hands of the masseuse worked on soothing the tension from her muscles. Abby curled her toes in pleasure, the jasmine scented massage oil helping her relax further as careful hands swept from her shoulders to the small of her back in well-timed, powerful strokes.

"You're incredible," Abby mumbled, a pleasant drowsiness spreading through her. "Can I take you home with me?"

The masseuse, a petite and dainty woman called Linda who didn't look as though she had the upper body strength needed to be in her profession, laughed gaily. "If I got a dollar for every person who said that..." She drew a moan Abby couldn't hold back out of the dark-haired woman and laughed again. "You're surprisingly tense for someone who's here on their honeymoon."

"The build up to the wedding was hell," Abby explained quickly, her sluggish brain kicking up a gear. "I'm just glad it's over."

"Over, and you got a hunk of husband to show for it." Linda pressed her fingers into the small of Abby's back, fanning them out to her sides as she spoke. "Hope you don't mind me saying it but he is hot."

Abby grinned, glad the mic and earpiece had already been deactivated and discarded in the pocket of her robe. "He's my silver-haired fox. I definitely think I got the better end of the deal."

"I'm sure he would disagree," Linda murmured supportively. "You make a very attractive couple. Been together long?"

"Ten years," Abby answered, telling herself it wasn't really a lie. "Well, we've known each other for ten. It was a slow progression."

"Aren't they the best kind?" Turning away to pour some more of the heated oil onto her hands, Linda missed the wistful expression that passed over Abby's features. "A slow, gentle burn. Those are the ones that last." She turned back with a smile. "But I bet there's plenty of passion, too, right? You guys wouldn't have gotten married after ten years otherwise."

Abby closed her eyes, letting her imagination take over as Linda returned her attention to her body. "Lots of passion," she mumbled, thinking of the sweet kisses to her cheek, the fluttering of his fingers against her cheek as he signed 'my girl' against her skin. "Lots of love."

A peaceful silence fell over them, punctuated only by sighs and small moans as Linda continued to work her magic. It was only when the masseuse covered her with a warmed towel that Abby realised the treatment was almost over, and felt disappointment washing over her.

"How long are you staying at the hotel?" Linda asked quietly, beginning the clean-up process as discreetly as possible. "You can get a discount on another treatment. Maybe even treat that husband of yours to a session for couples."

"A session for couples?" Careful not to expose any more of herself than she already had, Abby clutched the warm towel over her chest as she turned over. "I've never heard of that before."

Linda smiled softly. "It's nothing too racy. Basically you both get the treatments of your choice and a free lesson on massage thrown in, too." She shrugged when Abby bit down on her bottom lip, sensing a sale drifting away. "Or you could just purchase one of the gift sets and use it yourself when you get home. It features a collection of oils, said to be aphrodisiacs, an eye mask and some aromatherapy candles."

Abby hesitated for a moment, the doubt lingering in her mind that she'd never be able to convince Gibbs to use the kit even under the ruse of playing a pair of loved-up newlyweds. That said, there was no reason she couldn't buy the set for herself and take it home with her once the case was over. The candles alone would be welcome in her apartment even if she did never get to use the oils in the way they were intended... "Okay. You've twisted my arm. I'll take one of the gift sets."

Satisfied that she'd made a sale, Linda beamed at her. "I'll add it to your bill."

Abby lay on the bed until the other woman left the small room, then stood and let the towel slip away, pulling her bathing suit back on before shrugging into her terrycloth robe. She left the room and arranged with Linda for the gift set to be delivered to her room later. Her treatments finished with for the time being, Abby found herself wandering through the hotel, not really paying attention to where she was heading.

*****


	4. Chapter 4

*****

There was a steady stream of people in and out of the gym and fitness centre throughout the day but few stayed for more than an hour. Gibbs didn't blame them. The hotel was notoriously known for being the perfect haven for couples and most of those who visited would rather spend time with their other halves working up a sweat in entirely different ways.

He didn't blame them for that, either, and would have preferred to leave, too, if only the woman waiting for him in his suite was really his wife. Hell, he was sure that if he ever did genuinely go away with Abby for a romantic weekend, he wouldn't want to leave their hotel room at all.

The couples they were mimicking had, though. Maybe that was what had caught the attention of the person or people responsible for killing the men and abducting the women. Or maybe it was someone jealous of what they had, someone who'd wanted to rip them apart.

Either way, it was their job to find out – and to hopefully find both missing women alive though Gibbs knew the chances of that grew smaller with every day that went by.

Tony was one of only a couple who stayed for as long he did. He tried flirting with a couple of the women in the gym, much to Gibbs' amusement. One of them appeared interested – until her bulky husband showed up – and another looked like she wouldn't mind flirting back but seemed too self-conscious to do so.

The blond woman working out on the treadmill beside Gibbs himself seemed interested – in Gibbs, not in his younger agent. He returned her smile politely in the mirrors in front of their treadmills but tried to avoid all eye contact after that.

Unfortunately for him, she was also one of the few who seemed to have no where better to be and Gibbs noticed she seemed to follow him around from one piece of equipment to the other.

He settled himself on one of the bench presses, setting the weights accordingly, and found himself hoping she didn't offer to spot for him. He managed to lift the heavy weights three times before a slight commotion caught his attention and he almost lost his grip when he noticed the cause of it.

Someone close by whistled, low and with intent.

Gibbs' jaw clenched as he set the weights back on their stand and sat up to watch her approach.

A light blush staining her already flushed cheeks, Abby smiled at him softly when she reached him, sitting down on the bench he was straddling when he inclined his head. The scent of jasmine and something else uniquely Abby washed over him, lightly fragranced but wholly intoxicating and he found himself reaching out to brush her hair back from her face – to check the earpiece was in place, he told himself firmly, and not because he wanted an excuse to touch her.

Playing her part well, she leaned her cheek into his palm. Her hands moved quickly, forcing him to drop his gaze down to them so he could catch what she was trying to say.

*I'm done in the spa. The woman there knew we're supposed to be newlyweds. Thought it'd be more convincing if I sought you out rather than spend the afternoon on my own.*

Gibbs reluctantly dropped his hand from her cheek, noting over her shoulder that the blond woman was watching their exchange with no small degree of interest. *Your timing couldn't be more perfect. Though you should really have got dressed first.*

She glanced down at herself, arching an eyebrow. Other than the slight gaping to the robe she wore – something a newlywed woman wouldn't readjust sitting in front of her husband, Abby told herself – she thought she looked presentable enough. *Didn't want to go back to the room to change first. Besides, I think I'm wearing more than Workout Barbie over there.*

He grinned at seeing the words signed; it was something he didn't see said using sign language often. *So you noticed her.*

*Please, Gibbs.* She rolled her eyes, her hands growing more animated as an unimpressed expression arranged her features. *I was watching through the window for a bit – nice muscles, by the way. Saw her stalking you and thought I'd come and stake my claim. Though if you'd rather I leave you to it...*

He grabbed her wrist with one hand when she started to rise, halting her movements with a look. "Staking your claim?" He asked in a low voice, leaning close to keep anyone else from overhearing their conversation and to add credibility to her cover story of being partially deaf. His gaze dropped for a split-second to glimpse the cleavage shown by the gaping robe but Abby didn't seem to notice, much to Gibbs' relief.

Abby herself couldn't help but think pretending to be hearing impaired had its advantages. She shifted a little closer, so much so that her knees nudged his and smiled when it was his turn to arch an eyebrow. "You're supposed to be my husband," she told him simply, her voice quiet, her green gaze holding his blue eyes.

"That I am." His hand free to move back to her cheek, Gibbs took advantage of the opportunity to sign *my girl* against her cheek. He watched over her shoulder as the blond woman lost interest but the man who he suspected was responsible for the low whistle when Abby arrived continued to watch them intently. "Wanna go grab a late lunch?"

Abby paused, listening intently to something he couldn't hear. He watched her roll her eyes before her hands started moving again. *Ziva said we should get room service. Gotta make it look convincing.*

*Ziva might have a point.* He shrugged his shoulders, eyes scanning the gym. He watched Tony get up and excuse himself, knowing his agent was going to join his teammates in their suite. *McGee on his way back upstairs?*

*I think so. He didn't really acknowledge me, which I guess is the point.* She sighed and dropped her hands to the bench between them. "The spa here's great. The masseuse told me they do pamper sessions for couples." She rolled her eyes again at the look he couldn't keep off his face. "Nothing hinky. I told her we probably wouldn't have time but let her talk me into buying a gift set. It's going to be added to the bill..."

"And charged to the room." He smiled at her. "Not a problem, Abs. Charge whatever you want to it." Neither of them were paying for it after all, though Gibbs couldn't be certain he would be able to deny her anything she asked for even if he was footing the bill. He noticed the expression on her face change slightly, her eyes losing their focus as her cheeks flushed. "Abby?"

"I'm fine." Brought back to the moment by the sound of his voice, she gave him a distracted smile as her hands began to move again. *Tony's joined Ziva and McGee in the room upstairs.*

*What's he saying?* Concerned at the look on her face, Gibbs found himself leaning forward, almost as if he hoped he'd be able to hear the voice of his agents through the earpiece she wore.

Her blush deepened. *He doesn't think we're convincing enough. He heard some of the staff talking about us.*

*Talking...?* He glanced around, noting two attendants lower their heads when they caught him looking in their direction. "Looks like we've got an audience," he murmured lowly.

"Workout Barbie seems to be taking more of an interest again, too," Abby commented quietly after completing her own surveillance of the room. *Tony says we've got to do something to show we're for real.*

"I bet I can guess what," Gibbs murmured, both eyebrows rising when her blush returned full-force, confirming his suspicions. *You okay with this, Abs?*

*Would it matter if I wasn't?* Her lips quirked upwards. *I'm fine, Gibbs. Really.* When he still didn't look convinced, Abby gave him a challenging look. *I can handle anything you can.* The signing was accompanied by a small, reassuring smile, one that gave nothing away to anyone watching.

Butterflies fluttered in her stomach – excitement, nerves, anticipation – but Abby forced herself not to let them show.

"You sure about that?" Gibbs dropped his hands onto his knees, watching her intently. He didn't want to push her, didn't want to do anything she was uncomfortable with, but the flirtatious nature of their relationship had always been there, had always been so close to the surface...

Her smile softened and she gave him a small nod. "Positive."

Taking a small breath as if to steel himself for what he was about to do, Gibbs leaned forward, pressing his lips against hers almost tentatively at first. When she made no attempt at pushing him away and instead closed her eyes, he increased the pressure, his own eyes sliding shut as his hand slid to the back of her neck. Her lips parted, encouraging him wordlessly to deepen the kiss.

Leaning further towards her, into her, he let himself forget for a moment where they were and what they were supposed to be doing. Later he'd tell himself that he allowed himself to get caught up in the role he was supposed to be playing. One kiss ended and faded into another, neither willing to pull away and actually end it.

The sound of someone wolf-whistling again broke through the moment and they parted somewhat breathlessly, the glint in their eyes stunned even as they managed to school their expressions.

"Think that was convincing enough?" He asked quietly, his hand moving to rest over hers as he caught his breath.

Her smile faltered for a split-second and she inclined her head slightly. *Tony thinks so.* She hesitated for a moment, before giving him another smile and getting to her feet, walking out of the gym with twice as many eyes on her as before.

Gibbs waited a beat before following her, ignoring the knowing looks and smirks he got from the people he passed on his way.

*****


	5. Chapter 5

*****

Two stunned agents and one smirking Mossad liaison sat around their hotel room, waiting. Tony had replayed the kiss – caught on the hotel's CCTV feed and hacked into by McGee – at least half a dozen times and while McGee had seen it in on screen at least half of those times, he still couldn't believe it was true.

"It's Gibbs," he said for the fourth or fifth time. "And Abby. It's Gibbs and Abby."

"It is. But..." Tony tilted his head to the side, as if trying to see the kiss from a different angle despite it playing on screen. "It's kinda hot. It shouldn't be but it is."

Ziva rolled her eyes at their expressions, keeping her own gaze from straying back to the screen as Tony hit play once again. "Do you have to keep watching it, Tony? Gibbs would not be happy if he discovered how you were using NCIS equipment."

Tony snorted indelicately. "You think Vance would be happy if he knew how Gibbs was using NCIS's best forensic scientist?" There was a moment of silence, then Tony cleared his throat as Ziva stifled a chuckle. "I don't mean... Not like it sounded... I still don't get why Gibbs took Abby undercover with him."

"He had no choice," Ziva retorted, looking pointedly at her bandaged ankle. "There were no other agents available and a delay may result in the murderer getting away with it. Besides, it makes good tactical sense. With Abby, he does not need to pretend he is in love with her and can therefore concentrate on catching the killer. It makes senses, yes?"

Her matter-of-fact reply had both of her colleagues looking at her, both appearing as stunned as they had when they'd first saw the couple on screen kiss for the first time. "Gibbs is in love with...?" McGee glanced at Tony and shook his head. "No..."

"You did not know?" Ziva smiled at them sweetly. "And you did not suspect?"

Once again, the two men exchanged a look. Tony, Ziva noticed, appeared to be considering the idea while McGee stared at the screen once more before glancing in her direction. "I'll delete the video before the Director sees it," McGee mumbled, reaching for the laptop resting on Tony's knee. He arched an eyebrow when Tony grabbed it almost protectively... "Tony."

Pressing play once more, Tony watched the kiss play out in slow motion, a grin spreading across his face at the lingering looks and small smiles exchanged both before and after it. "It is kinda hot," he said again after another long moment, fingers reluctantly moving over the delete key as he closed the video file. "Really, really shouldn't be but it is."

*****

Conversation was sparse when they got back to the room. Abby took a long bath, using the massage oil still lingering on her skin as an excuse to spend hours locked in the bathroom. Gibbs changed out of his gym clothes, wishing he'd had a chance to grab a shower before she'd locked herself away, and headed out onto the balcony, cup of coffee in one hand, woodworking magazine in the other.

When Abby emerged from the bathroom, wrapped in a fluffy bathrobe with a towel wrapped around her head, she joined him on the balcony, wordlessly passing him a fresh cup of his favourite beverage as she sat down.

"We have dinner reservations again tonight, don't we?" She kept her tone conversational, her eyes fixed on the people she could see milling around outside the hotel. The sun was warm even though she'd been careful to sit in the shade and she stretched her legs out, making sure they were covered as she let her feet rest on the empty chair opposite her.

"Yep." Gibbs glanced up at her from the article in the magazine he'd given up all attempts at reading when he'd heard the click of the lock on the bathroom door being released. "We can cancel if you..."

"No." She shook her head and gave him an over-bright smile. "We've got to make sure we're seen, right? Put on a convincing show?" Her gaze dropped to the cup of coffee she held in her hands – sweetened by cream and sugar in direction opposition to Gibbs' preference for strong, plain, black coffee. "Do I have to wear the mic and earpiece tonight? It's a bit distracting."

He sipped the coffee in his hand, taking a moment to savour the taste. "I imagine having DiNozzo in your head all day can be a little disturbing," he said after a moment, amusement rumbling beneath the surface of his tone. "You can go without them tonight. I'll see about making arrangements for Ziva and DiNozzo or McGee to have dinner in the restaurant at the same time."

"Thank you." The conversation ended just as quickly as it begun.

Abby dozed off in her chair in the shade while Gibbs made every attempt at getting his attention back on the magazine in his lap and off the woman curled up beside him.

*****

She chose a simple black dress for dinner than evening, one she already had in her closet, one that she felt a little more like herself in. Gibbs, she noted, had no complaints, his approval clear in the way his eyes roamed over her figure before he caught himself and offered her his arm.

Abby shivered when she recalled the look in his eye; she wasn't going to fool herself into thinking it meant he had deeper feelings for her – if he had, surely he would've made a move or said something over the ten years they'd known each other – but it did wonders for her self-esteem to be appreciated in such a way.

They sat in a secluded corner of the restaurant, a single candle flickering on their table. The other members of the team were also present, sitting across the restaurant from them but Abby did her best to ignore them. She felt self-conscious enough without knowing every move she made was being studied.

"So tomorrow is moving day," Gibbs murmured as their dishes from their starters were cleared away and the waiter lingered to top up their wine glasses. "You feeling nervous about it?"

"Not really." Abby smiled her thanks at the waiter and ran a finger along the stem of her wine glass. "Are you going to carry me over the threshold?"

He grinned at her, nodding his thanks to the smirking waiter who reluctantly left their table. "If you want me to."

"I might hold you to that." Her smile grew mischievous before it was hidden behind the glass she lifted to her richly painted lips. "If you're sure you're up to it, that is. You know, what with you being an older guy and all."

An eyebrow arched. "That sounds like a challenge, Abigail."

"It may well be, Leroy." She didn't rise to the bait of him using her full name, fluttering her eyelashes as she used his first name, struggling to keep back a laugh at the look on his face. She gave in to a chuckle when he just continued to stare at her. "I'm joking. I know you'd be a worthy opponent for a guy half your age."

"I wouldn't say that but it's flattering to know you think so." His cheeks looked a little flushed in the dim light of the candle but Abby couldn't say for certain whether he was blushing or not.

They lapsed into small talk when the waiter returned with their main courses, amusing each other with stories about their childhoods and anecdotes about disasters in their love lives. It occurred to Abby that they were talking like two people on a first date but with the familiarity and ease of an old married couple. It made a nice chance, Abby decided, to be talking about matters outside of NCIS and, as she regaled Gibbs with the story of how she'd gotten involved with the team of bowling Nun's in the first place, she found herself enjoying the fact they were unable to talk about their jobs for fear of compromising their cover stories.

Over dessert, she learnt about his growing up in Stillwater, his decision to join the marines, and was given a rundown of the various injuries he'd gathered courtesy of his ex-wives throughout his marriages and subsequent divorces. She tried to get him to tell her how he got the boats out of his basement but that was a secret Gibbs was unwilling to share, not even for the piece of chocolate fudge cake she tried to tempt him with.

Leaning back into her chair with a contented sigh, Abby realised she'd enjoyed the evening, almost allowing herself to forget the real reason they were there. She found herself smiling as she sipped her wine, content and pleasantly drowsy.

"You ready to head upstairs?" He inclined his head towards her, offering her a hand she took with a tired smile.

They walked past the others without acknowledging them, Gibbs' arm slipping easily around her waist to hold her closer.

They parted ways once the door to their suite was closed behind them. Abby disappeared into the bathroom to change out of the dress she wore while Gibbs did a last minute sweep of their room, making sure the windows and doors were locked and secure. Once she was safely tucked under the blankets, it was Gibbs' turn to use the bathroom, emerging in a t-shirt and shorts, slipping under the bedcovers beside her before turning off the light.

As they'd done the previous night, both Abby and Gibbs lay on their backs initially, staring at the ceiling of their room as they tried not to think about the person lying next to them. It was Gibbs who made the first move, a sigh escaping him as he rolled onto his side, drawing her back against his chest. He shushed her when she made a small sound of protest, wrapping his arms around her, his face resting against her hair and neck.

"We need to sleep, Abs. I don't really feel like staring at the ceiling for another hour or two tonight till that happens." He tensed a little when he felt her back straighten and exhaled slowly when he felt her relax against him, her hands moving to cover his where they'd come to rest over her stomach.

"Good night, Gibbs," she murmured instead, giving his hand a quick squeeze.

He fought the urge to drop a kiss on the back of her neck, closing his eyes instead. "Sweet dreams, Abby."

*****


	6. Chapter 6

*****

Waking up wrapped in his arms was something she decided she could get used to – if she was given the chance. She listened carefully to his breathing, surprised that he was still asleep; Gibbs, she knew, was usually a light sleeper and a morning person.

She turned slowly in his arms, doing her best not to disturb him, wanting the chance to study him while he slept. Other than a small noise of protest and a tightening of the hand that had been resting against her stomach against the small of her back, Gibbs remained asleep. His fingers splayed out possessively against her, pressing her closer to his body.

Abby went willingly, not wanting to wake him. She gazed up at his face, noting how relaxed he looked. Serene wasn't a word she normally associated with Gibbs but it was the one that came to mind as she looked at him, serene and content, without the stress or pressures of the job playing on his mind or the shadows of the past adding lines to his face.

He rolled over onto his back, taking her with him. Abby bit down on her bottom lip, closing her eyes as she let her head rest against his chest, inhaling deeply. The scent of him was soothing, associated with safety and sanctuary and she found herself feeling sleepy again, her body relaxing against his.

Just as she was falling asleep, she felt him tense beneath her, his arms tightening around her as he woke.

"Morning," she murmured, keeping her eyes closed as his fingers began to rub slow circles into the small of her back through her nightdress. "You're almost as good as the masseuse."

"Just almost?" His voice, still husky from sleep, was amused. "I'll have to work on that."

She bit her lip before she could volunteer to be his test subject, easing off him as far as his arms would let her, cuddling into his side, one of her legs still entwined with his. "Gibbs?"

"Yeah, Abs?"

"Do you think I'll fit in on a military base?" She tilted her head back so she could look up at him. "I'm not your standard, run-of-the-mill military wife, am I?"

His hand moved over her back again, his eyes warm and his smile reassuring. "You'll be fine, Abby. There's no right or wrong way for a wife to be. Just be yourself."

"You really think it's convincing that a guy like you would go for a girl like me?"

Whatever he saw on her face made him move, shifting so he was lying on his side facing her, shuffling down until they were eye-to-eye. One arm remained around her while his other hand touched her face, his fingers gentle against her cheek before moving to her chin, tilting her face up so she had no choice but to look at him.

"A guy like me would have to be blind and stupid not to fall for a girl like you. Anyone would be lucky to have you, Abs. You're better than most people deserve."

For several long moments, they simply gazed at one another across the small distance between them. Gibbs' hand remained at her face, his fingers resting lightly against her skin. Abby couldn't bring herself to look away at first, staring intently into his blue eyes, trying but failing to see anything that would suggest he was just trying to make her feel better.

After a while, they remembered where they were, both realising at the same time that the topic and location of their conversation gave it an immensely intimate feel. While Gibbs hesitated, reluctant to move away from her, Abby tore her gaze away, forcing herself to get up and out of bed.

"We've got a long day," she mumbled, mostly to herself, and made her way to the dresser. "I have no idea what to wear. I should've listened when Ziva was talking. I don't know whether to go casual or smart or..."

He got out of bed during her babbled speech, walking towards her and reaching for her hand as she unfolded and messily re-folded the clothes in the drawer. "Abby. Just be yourself. Wear what you're comfortable in. You don't have to pretend to be anyone you're not."

"I have to pretend to be someone you could fall in love with," was her muttered response, pulling her hand free of his.

Gibbs drew his own hand back slowly, running it through his hair. He grabbed for the pants and shirt he'd left on top of the dresser the night before – the rest of his clothes he'd never bothered unpacking – and turned to carry them with him through to the bathroom. "Like I said," he replied quietly, his back to her as he walked away. "Just be yourself."

Abby stared after him, her lips parted in surprise, her green eyes wide. With a small smile on her face, she reached for the first thing in the drawer

*****

An unofficial welcoming committee waited for them on the military base that would become their home. Abby bit back a groan, the high she'd been on since that morning fading when she noticed the attractive redhead waiting with a basket of fruit and a bright smile. She glanced at her husband out of the corner of his eye but Gibbs merely glanced at the woman, his eyebrow raising only a little before turning his attention on the man standing beside her.

Good looking, Abby surmised, but not buff enough to be enlisted himself. Maybe a house-husband but definitely not, she noticed, the other half of the redhead who walked gracefully towards the car, her blue eyes fixed firmly on Gibbs.

"Why'd there have to be a redhead?" Abby muttered under her breath, waiting until Gibbs had opened his door and was half-way out before talking to herself. She saw the muscles of his back tense under his t-shirt and wondered if it was because he'd heard her or – most likely – because of the way the over-keen redhead invaded his personal space without a second-thought. She made her own way out of the car, smiling politely at the guy who tried to catch her eye as she manoeuvred her way to Gibbs' side.

Her husband, she noted, had stepped back from the attractive redhead. Gibbs gave her a lopsided smile and drew her to his side with an arm around her waist. For the purposes of their cover story, Abby told herself, and because Gibbs was a man of morals and old fashioned values; his second wife had cheated on him and she knew he'd never have an affair with a married woman – not even the potentially willing redhead gazing at him with big blue eyes...

"This is Abby, my wife." His arm tightened around her waist as he introduced her. "Abs, these are our neighbours. Carla –"

"Cara," the redhead corrected with a flirtatious smile that went almost entirely ignored.

"- lives in the house on the left." Gibbs glanced at the guy in the t-shirt and faded jeans, an eyebrow arching when he paused before introducing himself. "And this is..."

"Ken Lewis. I live on the right." He gave them a speculative look but smiled when Gibbs continued to stare at him. "My wife's away in Iraq. Cara's husband's in Afghanistan." Ken looked over Gibbs, then over Abby, allowing his eyes to linger a little longer than polite over her form. He grinned and looked away when Gibbs cleared his throat and pulled Abby a little tighter to his side. "Which one of you will be shipping out, then?"

"Neither of us." Abby tilted her head so she could let it rest a little against Gibbs' shoulder, hoping the gesture would help ease some of the tension she felt radiating off him. "Jethro's here to teach."

Ken arched an eyebrow. "Those who can't, teach?"

Abby bristled. "I think you'll find the phrase is 'those who can, teach'."

"Each to their own, Abs." Gibbs' smile was tense but he curled his hand around her hip in warning. "It was nice to meet you both, but we've got a lot of unpacking to get done. Maybe we'll see you around."

"Oh, sure." Cara Bale smiled at him winningly. "You guys'll have to come over to dinner sometime."

"Sometime, sure." Neither accepting nor rejecting the invite out right, Gibbs waited just long enough for Abby to take the basket of fruit from Cara before ushering his wife towards the front door of their new home. He'd return later for their bags, when the coast was clear. Leaning close to Abby, he lips brushed the shell of her ear. "Still want to be carried over the threshold?"

A small bubble of laughter escaped her and he was pleased to feel the tension ease out of her. "You sure you're up to it? We do have an audience, after all..."

He gave her a lopsided grin and unlocked the door, pushing it open with his foot. Before she could protest or comment further, she found herself scooped up into his arms. She squealed, an arm around his neck as she belatedly remembered to hold onto Cara's housewarming present as her husband carried her inside.

Glancing over his shoulder just before he kicked the door shut behind them, Abby caught a glimpse of the curious expressions on their neighbour's faces and let a small smile spread across her face.

*****

Their new home was small and compact but Abby preferred to tell herself the lack of space just meant it was cosy. Once their belongings had been stowed away in the sparse storage space in what would be their bedroom, the house felt even more strange. It felt like they were trespassing on someone else's property and, as Abby surveyed the sub-standard living room with a hand on her hip and pursed lips, she realised she couldn't bear to live like that – even if it was just for a few weeks.

"We're going to have to go shopping," she declared, barely looking at Gibbs as he moved around the open-plan kitchen.

"We need to get groceries," Gibbs agreed, his voice muffled as he continued opening and closing cupboards. "They said they'd stock the kitchen but it looks like they forgot."

Rolling her eyes, Abby turned to watch him continue his exploration. "I wasn't talking about food," she told him. She waved her hands around, gesturing to their sparse surroundings when he looked at her with a raised eyebrow. "I'm talking about shopping for things to liven this place up, Gibbs. I can't life like this! It's so... boring! There's no personality, no colour... It's white and grey and dull and boring and..."

"A military base," he reminded her with a wry grin. "These places are like this, Abs. Families don't tend to stay in one place for long so it's got to be ready for the next occupants to put their own stamp on it."

"Well, I want to put my own stamp on our house." She almost stomped her foot but managed to restrain herself. "It feels lonely in here," she continued, lifting her hand from her hip to rub her arms as though she were warding off a chill. "There's nothing to say people live here."

"No one did till an hour ago," he pointed out, walking towards her slowly.

Abby didn't notice, turning around to face the almost surgically clean living room. "The sofa will do but it needs a throw and some colourful cushions. And we need some artwork for the walls, and some new curtains and something to put on the coffee table. There should be magazines lying around or books or something. And we don't have a CD player, let alone a MP3 player. The TV will do but we need a DVD player to go with it, especially since I don't think we've got cable. I can see an internet hub, though, so when my laptop gets here tomorrow, I'll be able to hook it up onto the 'net and occupy myself that way..."

"Abby." His hands on her shoulders silenced her rant. He turned her to face him, smiling at her pout. "Grab a jacket and we'll go to the nearest retail outlet."

"Really?" Looking up at him through her lowered eyelashes, the beginnings of a smile broke out across her face. "You'll really let me decorate this place?"

"Within reason," Gibbs allowed. "We can't do anything that isn't easily reversed but we can still make it more like a home while we're here."

"Yay!" Launching herself at him, Abby wrapped her arms around him and squeezed, missing the grin that passed over his face at the action. "You're the best husband a girl could ask for!"

"I'm not sure my ex-wives would agree," he commented, masking his disappointment with well-practised ease when she pulled away after too short a time.

"Your ex-wives need mental help for letting a catch like you slip through their fingers." She said it so seriously, so honestly, that Gibbs felt his face heat. Luckily, she didn't appear to notice, standing on her toes a little to press her lips against his cheek. "I'll get my jacket and we can go. This is going to be so much fun!"

He wasn't as convinced but he'd put up with whatever discomfort he had to in order to see her so happy. She wasn't his Abby unless she was her hyper, easily-excited self and Gibbs was determined to make sure she stayed that way throughout the course of their investigation.

*****


	7. Chapter 7

_Big thanks to everyone who's reviewed on this story so far - completely and utterly appreciate every single one of them. Hopefully, the parts will be posted more often now - my muse is finally back on form! Yay!_

*****

It wasn't as bad as he thought it would be, shopping with Abby. He was surprised to find he agreed with most of her choices, though had to draw the line at the elaborately carved three-foot Buddha she tried to convince him would look lovely by their front door. The dark, forest-green cushions and black velvet throw, however, he agreed to buy, just as he let her believe she'd had to talk him into buying a wall-hanging with greens, blues and blacks for the living room and a set of three small canvas paintings for their bedroom in reds and purples.

She insisted on buying new sheets, pillow cases and a comforter – all in dark, luxurious shades of reds, purples and, of course, black. And matching curtains, too, though she relented on the black-out blind when he admitted he liked having the morning light as a natural wake-up call alongside his alarm clock.

They bought light-shades that would complement the rest of the decor and a dark green rug he didn't think was necessary but which Abby fell in love with for the living room. She even tried to convince him to take his shoes and socks off and walk over the soft, plush rug but Gibbs decided to leave the in-store testing to her.

Added to that, they bought a CD player along with several CD's Abby insisted she couldn't live without and a couple she thought Gibbs would like, along with a DVD player and a few DVD's that were 'essential for any romantic evening in' according to the astounded sales girl Abby had befriended who sensed a big sale in the newlyweds.

After they'd spent a small fortune on turning a house on a military base into a home they could both live with, they did a quick grocery shop and Gibbs let Abby talk him into buying an array of food he'd never have dreamt of purchasing – takeouts and frozen meals had done him no harm in the years he'd been buying them but Abby insisted, with no small amount of glee in her eyes, that no husband of hers would go without a home-cooked meal at least once a week.

They returned to their new home and unloaded the trunk in several trips. While Gibbs restocked the cupboards and the fridge with the groceries they'd bought, Abby set about rearranging their old furniture and adding the new items to their existing ones to make it feel more like a home and less like the set-up it was.

Collapsing onto the newly covered sofa an hour later, Abby waited until he was sitting beside her before curling up beside him.

"The curtains are still open," she pointed out innocently. "Who knows who could be watching?"

Grinning, Gibbs made no attempt at denying her claim and instead put his arm around her, holding her closer. "Feel more like a home now, Abs?"

She let her head rest on his shoulder as she surveyed her handiwork, a contemplative frown on her face. "It'll do," she said eventually. "Doesn't feel as homey as my apartment, or as comfortable as your house could if it had a few things added here and there."

"My house doesn't feel homey to you?" Gibbs was surprised; she'd never complained about it before. In fact, she seemed to relax as easily in him home as she did in her own though when he thought about it, whatever time they'd spent their together had been in his basement since his third ex-wife had taken most of the furniture with her when she'd left.

Abby shrugged one shoulder and cuddled into him, seeking the warmth of his body to ward off the evening chill. "It could do with a bit of work. A few more bits of furniture, a splash of colour here and there..." Privately, she thought her dark mahogany cabinet – gothic style, of course – would look perfect in the bare alcove of his living room, and the gilded mirror she had in her living room would look wonderful above his dark wood fire place.

"Planning a career change, Abby?" He glanced down at her, watching her eyelids slide shut. "I never saw you as an interior decorator..."

"You've got to admit this place looks a thousand times better," she pointed out, her eyes still closed as a soft sigh escaped her. "Actually feels like a home now."

Feeling her against him, warm and solid and comforting, Gibbs couldn't deny it. He just wasn't sure if it was because she felt so right curled up against him or the changes she'd made in decor that made the small house feel more like a home. "You're right about that," he murmured, shifting a little to settle her more firmly against him. "You want to test out your new DVD player or head straight to bed?"

She couldn't quite stifle a yawn but managed to sit up right, depriving them both of the contact. The deprivation was short-lived, however, as Gibbs stood and held out a hand for her, helping to her feet and leading her through to their room.

Sliding into bed after completing what was fast becoming their nightly routine, Abby and Gibbs met in the centre of the bed and wrapped their arms around one another. They lay in the dark, listening to their breathing and heartbeats, lulled into a deep, comfortable sleep.

*****

Monday morning brought with it Gibbs' first day at work. Abby was sure she was far more anxious than he was, though she tried to cover it with a smile and a cheery wave, accepting the kiss he dropped on her cheek as he left for the day.

It took less an hour for her to realise she'd grown accustomed to having him around and missed him when he wasn't there.

They'd arranged to have lunch together at the cafeteria in the academy building so she'd decided to keep herself busy until midday rolled around. She'd cleaned the already immaculate surfaces, made the bed, showered and dressed and read the copy of New Scientist they'd picked up along with the groceries the night before.

It was ten thirty when she looked up at the clock, her heart falling when she took note of the time.

Her laptop wasn't due to arrive until the afternoon – hand-delivered by either McGee or Tony, whichever would fit into the courier outfit they'd borrowed for the mission – and there was only so much day-time TV she could watch before wanting to tear her hair out.

It'd be different if it really were her own home, Abby surmised. She wouldn't feel like she had to restrain herself. She could blast her music and dance around the living room without wondering what her neighbours thought about her – without worrying she might do or say something that would blow their cover.

At eleven twenty-five, she left the single-story home and decided to walk across the base towards the building that served as both the administration department and the training academy. At eleven forty, she walked through the front doors, showing the ID she'd been given to the curious security guards on duty and asked for directions to the cafeteria.

At eleven fifty-five, she walked into the cafeteria and stopped in her tracks, her eyebrows arching when she saw Gibbs already sitting at a table with a cup of coffee.

Already with company in the form of Cara, their not-at-all unattractive red-haired neighbour.

Forcing a smile when Gibbs looked up and noticed her, Abby strode towards them. She was careful not to look at their neighbour, who was clearly unaffected by her presence and continued to lean into Gibbs' personal space, instead arching an eyebrow at her husband, who got to his feet to greet her.

"She won't leave me alone," Gibbs murmured, his mouth next to her ear as he embraced her and pressed a kiss to her cheek.

"It didn't look like you minded from where I was standing," Abby returned, fixing him with a cool smile as she took a small step away. "I didn't know you worked here, Cara."

"I don't." The flirtatious redhead flicked a strand of silken hair over her shoulder. "I was just in the area and thought I'd stop by to see if I could talk someone into buying me a cup of coffee."

Abby glanced at the table, her smile growing strained when she noticed the two cups on the table. "I see you succeeded."

Cara laughed and flicked her hair again. "Just being neighbourly," she commented with a wink at Gibbs. "Can't stand to see an attractive man sitting on his own." Before Abby or Gibbs could respond, she got to her feet and secured her purse over her shoulder. She gave Abby a quick smile and leaned in to kiss Gibbs on the cheek, leaving a bright red lipstick mark. "Thanks for the coffee, Jethro. I'll have to repay the favour sometime."

Gibbs said nothing and didn't turn to watch her leave, missing the exaggerated sway of her hips. He wiped at his cheek, an expression of faint disgust on his face and watched Abby carefully as she sat down in the chair Cara had vacated, her shoulders slumped. "You want to get something to eat?"

Abby shook her head, reaching for a sugar sachet to fidget with. "I'm not hungry."

"Can I get you an iced coffee at least? They don't do Caf-Pow but it's the next best thing." Gibbs motioned to the counter with a shoulder, keeping his eyes fixed on her.

With a shrug of her shoulder, Abby didn't look up from the sugar sachet. "Okay."

Biting back a sigh, Gibbs went to order a second coffee for himself and an iced coffee for Abby. He glanced back over at her as he collected their drinks from the server. She didn't look up, just kept staring at the sachet she twirled in her hands.

Carrying their drinks back to the table, Gibbs found himself contemplating the wedding band on his ring finger. Its weight was familiar and comforting, though the style wasn't exactly what he was used to. White and yellow gold entwined, opposites that complemented one another perfectly. A little like himself and Abby, he thought ruefully, wishing he could erase the tension in her shoulders.

He set the drinks on the table in front of her and took the seat opposite hers, sipping his coffee as he surveyed her intently. "Have a good morning?" He asked conversationally.

Abby's brow furrowed and she shrugged again. "Not really. My laptop's not due till this afternoon."

"Give 'em a call, see if they can get it here sooner." Gibbs sipped his coffee, hoping she'd become more talkative after a sip of her own drink but she didn't.

Abby sat in silence opposite him, nursing the iced coffee, her expression carefully arranged to give nothing away though tension radiated from every inch of her. After ten minutes of awkward silence, she got up, clutching the plastic cup in her hand. "I better get home. I wouldn't want to keep you from something important."

"Abs..." Gibbs let his voice trail off. He gave her a small smile and an awkward shrug. "Hope the laptop gets here soon."

She didn't smile back, just left without glancing over her shoulder.

Gibbs ran a hand through his hair and got to his feet, heading for the classroom he'd been assigned to for the duration of the case. He knew why Abby was annoyed even if he didn't understand it; she couldn't possibly be jealous of Cara – she had no reason to be, for starters. Still, he hadn't gone through four marriages without learning a thing or two about women and promised himself he'd make it up to her – even if he didn't think he had anything to make up for – before the day was through.

*****


	8. Chapter 8

*****

Tony drew the long straw and got to leave the apartment a short distance away from the base where the other agents had set up home, donning the UPS uniform they'd been given and hopping into the van that pulled up outside their temporarily place.

Excited, Tony babbled non-stop to the unfortunate driver who'd landed the job of driving him to and from Abby and Gibbs' place on the base and it was with apparent relief that the driver handed Tony Abby's laptop and told him to take as much time as he needed as he had a few more deliveries to make on base.

The door opened before he had a chance to knock and Tony found himself being dragged inside, then wrapped in a full-force Abby hug when the door closed behind them.

"Oomph, Abby! I've missed you, too," he mumbled, struggling to hold onto the box housing the laptop and the black-haired woman who clung to him tightly. His grin faded when she drew back and he saw the smudges under her eyes, his brow furrowing as he set the laptop down and moved to take her more fully into his arms. "What's up, Abs?"

"Nothing," Abby mumbled, her voice muffled against him. "I just wanted a hug."

Tony's eyebrows arched. "I'm sure your husband would be more than happy to help out with that…"

Abby snorted indelicately, pulling away from him. She leaned down to pick up the laptop, turning away swiftly. "Did McGee remember to pack my portable hard-drive? I told him I needed it but you know what he's like…"

"Abby." Stilling her, his hands on her shoulders, Tony led her to the small couch and sat her down, sitting beside her and drawing her against him with an arm around her shoulder. The laptop box sat on her lap, her arms wrapped around it tightly. "You wanna tell Uncle Tony what's wrong?"

"Uncle Tony?" A small giggle escaped her and she cuddled into his side, her head tucked neatly against his shoulder.

Squeezing her shoulders, Tony smiled a little, pleased he'd been able to make her smile. "You gonna tell me what's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong." Her voice small and almost child-like, Abby closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. "I think Gibbs has a thing for the redhead next door," she said after a moment's pause. "She's attractive," she admitted reluctantly. "And she's a redhead and we all know how he feels about those."

Tony shook his head, the image of the kiss they'd witnessed too fresh in his mind for him to believe the claim. "I think he's moved away from redheads, Abby. Maybe he's learnt his lesson there."

Abby sighed, obviously unconvinced. She drew back from his embrace reluctantly, her shoulders slumping as she leaned back against the cushions of the couch. "You should go. The neighbours will talk if you stay too long."

"While that might be fun for a while, I don't think Gibbs would appreciate it." Tony stood and stretched before looking down at her with a sympathetic expression. "If it's worth anything, Abs, I don't think you need to worry. I saw the way Gibbs was watching you at the hotel. There's no way that could've been faked."

"He's a good actor," Abby muttered, grabbing a cushion from the couch as she stood up after him, following him to the door as she hugged it to her chest.

"Not that good." Tony dipped his head to press a kiss against her cheek before opening the door. He took a step outside, a grin arranging his lips as he noticed a woman he assumed to be the redhead Abby had mentioned standing talking to a man he presumed was another neighbour. "Nice meetin' ya, Mrs. Gibbs," he called over his shoulder, treating Abby to a mischievous wink. "Give us a call if you need anythin' moving again."

Abby rolled her eyes, a smile on her face even as she watched the UPS van drive away. Clutching the cushion close, she closed the door without acknowledging either of her neighbours, moving over to the couch where her laptop lay abandoned.

She couldn't work in her lab, but there was nothing that said she couldn't work at all.

*****

It'd been a long time since he'd been surrounded by marines but Gibbs found it was still as invigorating as it had been. He loved his work at NCIS, more than he'd been expecting if he was honest, but there was something that felt undeniably at home about being with fellow soldiers who'd been through the same training, shared some of the same or similar experiences and got a natural high from serving their country.

He walked home with a bounce in his step, his shoulders relaxed and a grin on his face.

A grin that faded when he noticed Cara lingering in her front yard, watching the sidewalk like a wild cat waiting to pounce on its prey.

Forcing a smile, he gave her a small nod and quickened his pace, hoping he'd make it to the front door of the house before she could set the watering can down and cross the small distance between their yards.

"How was your afternoon, Jethro?" Cara called out, stopping him in his tracks. She missed the soft curse under his breath and didn't seem to notice the longing glance he threw towards his front door when Abby waited. "Do our soldiers compare to the ones you're used to?"

"They're all pretty much the same," Gibbs responded with a shrug, edging a little towards the front door as she approached. "I should be getting inside. Abby'll be wondering where I am..."

Cara smiled, her eyes sparkling with an emotion he couldn't place but one he decided he didn't like. "She hasn't been lonely, if that's what you're worrying about," his red-haired neighbour informed him a little too innocently. "She had some company earlier this afternoon."

"Company?" He felt his shoulders tense, his smile taunt as he wondered who could've visited their mock-home. The murderer, maybe? Checking out the new couple?

"A UPS guy," Cara told him, leaning in conspiratorially. "He delivered a parcel but went inside for a while. Does your wife make a habit of entertaining strangers?"

DiNozzo or McGee, Gibbs realised, relaxing for a brief moment before it registered that Cara said they'd been inside the house. Not common practise for a deliveryman, and a risky move when they were supposed to be new to the area with no pre-existing friends. "She's a friendly person," he answered instead, fixing a smile on his face. "Abby doesn't like being alone. She was probably bored." He shrugged a shoulder as though it didn't bother him, nodding his head in the direction of the door. "Speaking of which, I should really make sure she's okay..."

"Of course." It was Cara's turn to force her smile, her eyes still speculative but in no way as smug as they had been. "Tell her if she ever wants some company, I'm usually always around..."

"I will. Thanks." Turning his back, Gibbs finally made it through the front door, letting it close behind him before turning to lock it. "Abby?"

"Mmmhmm?" Curled up on the couch with her laptop on her knee, Abby barely looked up from the screen she was staring at intently.

Gibbs studied her for a moment, noting the smudges under her eyes but not sure what to make of them. "I hear you had a visitor," he said instead, setting his briefcase down as he moved to stand in front of her. "DiNozzo or McGee?"

Abby looked up, blinking when she noticed how close he was standing. "Tony. How do you know...?"

"It made an impact on the neighbours." He tried to strive for casual but there was an undeniable edge to his voice. "Cara seems to think you're having an affair with the UPS guy."

Stiffening, whether at the words or the almost accusing tone in which he spoke them, Abby shut her laptop with an audible snap. "Cara should keep her nose out of other people's business." She tilted her head to the side, meeting his gaze with green eyes bright with her own suspicion. "Or it could be that she's interested in making it her business by having an affair herself."

"An affair?" Gibbs only just kept from rolling his eyes and it showed. "You think she has a thing for you, Abs?"

Frustrated, Abby got to her feet, glaring at him. "You know fine well what I mean, Gibbs. You think she was just being neighbourly by stopping by to see you today? Please. You of all people should know better than that."

"Me of all people...?" Gibbs took half a step closer, looking down on her through cool blue eyes. "What is it you're trying to imply, Abby?"

"Nothing." Abby shrugged, wishing she could take a step back without risking bumping into the couch. "Just that given you've been married so many times, I'd think you should know when a woman's interested in you. And encouraging her really isn't the behaviour of a happily married man, is it? Which is what you're supposed to be pretending to be."

"Just as you're supposed to be pretending to be a happily married woman. Not a bored housewife looking to have an affair with the first guy that comes along!" His temper flared, a memory of a previous marriage coming back to haunt him. He'd been betrayed by a woman before and the thought of being betrayed again, especially by Abby, did horrible things to his insides. "I knew it was a mistake to include you in this. We'll be lucky if your behaviour today doesn't jeopardise the whole damn thing."

"My behaviour?" Abby blinked at him, hurt and angry. "What about your own behaviour? You've hardly been the perfect husband!"

Their voices rose in volume as their anger increased, fuelled by hurt and confusion.

"Hard to be the perfect husband when you're not married to the perfect wife! I should've insisted we wait till Ziva was better or called in another agent, not settled for what was available." Gibbs wished he could take it back the moment the words left his mouth but it was too late.

It hung in the air between them until Abby turned on her heel, striding off to their bedroom, slamming the door behind her.

For several moments, Gibbs did nothing, just stared after her, arguing with himself whether to go after her straight away or wait till they both calmed down.

In the end, he chose to wait, settling on the couch with the blanket she'd folded over the back of it during her attempt at making the military house feel more like a home. Inhaling the scent of her, feeling strangely bereft without her in his arms, Gibbs fitfully tried to get a good night's sleep.

*****

Abby didn't leave the bedroom until she heard him leave the house. She hadn't slept at all, having spent the night alternately staring at the empty side of the bed next to her or up at the ceiling, unable to find the peace she needed to sleep.

She heard him get up and knew he'd had just as restless night when she heard him curse as he bumped into something in the living room. She closed her eyes tightly and covered her head with the comforter when the bedroom door opened, remaining that way until it closed again after he'd gathered his clothes for the day and left to use the shower.

She spent her morning tidying the already immaculate house, flicking through dozens of mindless television programmes on the TV and surfing the Internet for random facts on her favourite bands.

Nothing succeeded in keeping her mind from straying back to him and their argument.

She knew he regretted what he'd said as much as she did but there was still a nagging voice at the back of her head, one that told her she was going to be responsible if their case fell flat and a murderer walked free. If another man ended up dead, his wife missing... Abby wasn't sure she'd be able to forgive herself.

She missed her lab, missed being a little bit further back from the action. She'd never had any desire to be a field agent, though she would admit to wanting to learn how to fire a gun and undertake some self-defence lessons, but the actual front-line work wasn't for her. She worried enough about her colleagues; she didn't need to worry about herself as well.

Her lab was her sanctuary, her safe place. She could help people while doing what she enjoyed, what she was comfortable with, and she it wasn't vanity that made her confident in her abilities. She was a damn good forensic specialist – she wouldn't get so many job offers if she wasn't – and she loved the job she did, the work required of her.

When the phone rang, she jumped up from the couch, almost sending her laptop crashing to the floor. A distraction, of any shape or size, would be welcome.

Or so she thought.

"Hello?"

"Mrs. Gibbs?" The voice on the other end was unfamiliar, timid.

"Yes?"

"I'm calling from the Academy regarding your husband, Gunnery Sergeant Gibbs. We have a bit of a situation…"

*****


	9. Chapter 9

*****

Two of his morning students had chosen to stay behind, newly graduated recruits who wanted to grill him on his experiences on the front line. Gibbs didn't mind; speaking to the younger ones was in a way easier than speaking to the older, more experienced marines. They weren't as jaded as some of their older counterparts and most, while accepting of the dangers that faced them, were eager to serve their country as best as they could.

He'd been sitting with his back to the door when it opened. The two marines continued their animated conversation as the hair on the back of his neck stood on end, the door closing with a soft snick. Gibbs turned his head slightly, his heart rate increasing at the sight of the stranger standing with his back to the door, sweat beading along his brow, gun in hand.

"Stay quiet and no one needs to get hurt," the stranger announced, drawing the attention of the two young recruits. "We're just going to wait here for a while till things calm down."

As if on cue, an alarm went off somewhere in the building. Footsteps thudded in the hall outside and shouts could evidently be heard.

"What did you do, Marine?" Gibbs asked, slowly getting to his feet.

The stranger swallowed hard, panic adding an agitated edge to his movements. "What needed to be done," he said after a moment, motioning them to the side with his gun. "You two, close the blinds. You, secure the door. No one attempts to leave or all of you die."

At a nod from Gibbs, the two young marines got up to do what the stranger said. Gibbs himself headed to the door. He hesitated for a split second before turning the lock, turning back to the gun-wielding man with a sinking feeling in his gut.

'Abs, I'm sorry.'

*****

The phone on the desk rang four times before the former marine, Corporal Stefan Foster, picked it up and slammed it back down in its cradle. Gibbs watched him curiously, saying nothing, carefully positioned between the man with the gun and his two students.

"You have a name, Marine?" Gibbs asked after a long moment of silence, arching an eyebrow when the nervous man looked at him. "If we're going to be here for a while, we might as well get to know each other."

For a moment, the man looked like he was going to protest. Then his shoulders slumped and he wiped his brow with the back of the hand he wasn't using to hold the gun. "Foster. Stefan Foster. Corporal. Former," he added, his lips twisting.

"Gunnery Sergeant Gibbs." Gibbs stood and held out a hand. "Hope you don't mind me saying but you look like you want to be here even less than we do."

Foster ignored the offered hand and went back to pacing in front of the door to the classroom. "This wasn't part of the plan. None of this was supposed to happen."

"None of what, Corporal?"

Running his free hand through his hair in obvious agitation, Foster motioned to the room with the gun. "This. The whole damn thing. I'm not a bad guy. I don't deserve this. I don't deserve this."

Careful to keep himself between the gun and his students, Gibbs took a small step towards the trembling former marine. "Why don't you start from the beginning, Stefan?" He shrugged when the younger man stopped pacing to glare at him. "It might help to talk, and it looks like we've got some time to spare..."

The phone rang again. Foster glared at it. "Tell them I don't want to talk. I'll call them when I'm goddamn ready."

Gibbs didn't move. He instead motioned to Reynolds, one of his students, indicating for him to answer the phone instead. They listened as Reynolds conveyed the message to the person on the other end of the phone, and as he noted down a number where the negotiator could be reached.

When the phone was down again, Gibbs turned his attention back to Foster, eyes dropping to the Corporal's hands. "You married, Marine?"

Foster glanced down at the tarnished wedding ring on his finger. "Was. She left me." He shrugged one shoulder, his eyes shadowed with pain. "It's his fault. He ruined everything."

"He?"

"Johansson," Foster muttered, his expression grim. "I didn't shoot to kill. It was tempting but... she'd never've forgiven me for that. She didn't marry a killer. Sure as hell won't take one back."

"Sergeant Johansson? Is that who you shot?" Gibbs leaned against the desk at the front of the room in an attempt at appearing casual. "Mind if I ask why?"

"What do you care? No one else does." Foster ran his hand through his hair again. "It didn't have to go down like this. If they'd listened when I asked them to..."

"I'm listening now, Corporal. We all are." Gibbs nodded to the two young marines. "You've got an audience. Tell us what happened. From the beginning."

"He stitched me up. Johansson." Foster leaned against another desk, one closest to the door. The gun steady in his hands. "He was my fitness instructor. He had a thing for my girl but she wasn't interested. I had to protect what was mine so I warned him off. We got into it a bit." Foster shrugged and looked straight at Gibbs. "Next thing I know, I'm being tested for drugs. He messed with my samples and it came up positive. Got me kicked out of the Corp. My girl left me. No one believed me."

Gibbs tilted his head to the side, his blue eyes intent. "You have evidence he set you up?"

"I've been collecting it." Foster nodded. "Not that it matters. No one's gonna look at it now."

It was Gibbs' turn to shrug. "I might be able to help you with that but first I'm gonna need you to do something for me." When Foster looked at him, he nodded to his two students. "Let them go."

Foster hesitated, his eyes narrowing. The hand holding the gun rose. "Are you trying to trick me?"

"Nope." Gibbs answered honestly and easily. "I want to help you, Corporal."

Foster didn't move from his perch on the desk. "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why do you want to help me?"

"Because I believe you." Gibbs shrugged again. "Because I want to make sure we all get out of here in one piece."

Foster's gaze dropped to Gibbs' hands, his eyes focusing on the wedding band Gibbs was unwittingly twisting between his fingers. "You have a wife?"

"I do." Gibbs inclined his head slightly. "Word spreads fast on a base like this. She's probably standing out there right now." He glanced down at his hands to see what had the Corporal so entranced and realised he was fidgeting with his wedding ring. Funny how fast he'd gotten used to the weight of one again. "We fought last night," he found himself saying, not entirely sure why. To earn the Corporal's trust, a voice inside his head said, though his gut wasn't as convinced. "I left before we could make up this morning."

"What did you fight about?" Foster started lowering his gun hand. "You screw up?"

"Don't we always?" Gibbs' smile was without humour as he met Foster's gaze. "You asked me why I want to help you, Corporal, and I told you. I believe you. I also want to get out of here alive so I can tell my wife I love her like I should've done this morning. If you don't start cooperating with the guys outside soon, they're gonna send a team in here and they won't care about who gets hurt as long as you get taken down. I'm asking you to trust me. Send the boys out first, and then we can get them to listen to your demands."

Foster hesitated, obviously torn between wanting to believe someone was on his side and his fear of falling into a trap. After a long, tense moment, he jerked his head towards the door. "You two can go. You, lock the door after them."

"Anything you say, Corporal." Getting to his feet, Gibbs ushered the two young marines to the door. "Go out slowly," he advised, "with your hands clearly visible. Do everything they tell you to do and you'll be fine."

"What about you, Sir?" Reynolds hesitated as his classmate, Jefferson, lingered beside the door. "Will you be okay?"

"I'll be fine, son." Gibbs gave them a small nod and an even smaller smile. "I'll be out soon enough."

The marines traded a look, both clearly reluctant to leave him behind. "If your wife's out there, Sir, do you want us to give her a message?" Jefferson offered quietly.

Gibbs hesitated, his hand on the door tightening. After a short pause, he answered. "Tell her... Just tell her I'll be home soon."

"Yes, Sir. Good luck, Sir."

Shutting the door behind them, Gibbs turned the lock and rearranged the furniture without being asked. When that was done, he turned back to Foster, his hands clasped in front of him. "Tell me what evidence you have against Johansson and then let me make a call before we go out there. I promised I'd help you and I meant it but they're not gonna give us much more time."

*****

Her heart rose and fell when the doors opened and two young Marine's stumbled out. Abby had to remind herself to breathe, her arms tightening around herself as she continued her vigil outside the building.

After being initially briefed by the officer in charge, she'd been left on her own, kept out of the loop. She'd had to resist the urge to call her colleagues at NCIS knowing that to do so would put the mission in jeopardy, more so than it already was.

"Ma'am? Mrs. Gibbs?" Startled at being addressed, Abby tore her gaze away from the building to look at one of the two young Marine's who'd so recently left it. "I'm Liam Reynolds. I'm one of your husband's students."

"You were inside with him?" Abby held herself still, her green eyes searching his face. "Is he okay?"

"He's fine, Ma'am." Reynolds gave her a reassuring smile. "He's got the situation well in hand," he added, with no shortage of admiration in his voice.

Abby had to smile in spite of the situation. "He's good at talking people down."

"Yes, Ma'am." Reynolds nodded in agreement. "He gave us a message to pass onto you. He said to tell you he'll be home soon."

"I hope he's right," Abby murmured, her hands gripping her arms tight enough to bruise.

Reynolds turned to leave but hesitated, glancing back towards her with an uncertain expression on his face. "Mrs. Gibbs?"

"Yes?" Abby looked at him expectantly, wondering when she'd started getting used to being called by Gibbs' name.

Reynolds looked at the floor, his cheeks flushing with a hint of pink. "The Gunny mentioned that you'd argued last night. He said... He told Corporal Foster he had to get out of this alive so he could tell you he loves you, Ma'am. I just thought you'd want to know."

He left her to ponder his message on her own, answering the summons of the officer in charge. Abby blinked furiously, blaming a non-existent wind for the way her eyes began to sting.

*****

It felt like hours later when the cell phone belonging to the negotiator rang. After a few tense moments of one-word answers, he hung up and motioned to the officer in charge.

They were coming out.

Abby stood at the very edge of the crowd, her eyes locked on the double doors. She watched, holding her breath, as Corporal Foster appeared first, both hands up, the gun nowhere in sight. Gibbs followed, holding the weapon, gladly handing it over.

She watched him talk for a few moments to the soldiers cuffing Foster, saw him put a hand on Foster's shoulder and gave him a reassuring smile.

And then he looked up, eyes scouring the crowd, and Abby took a step forward.

She managed to keep her pace down to a fast walk but wasn't prepared to show any more restraint than that. Gibbs didn't seem to mind; as soon as his gaze found her, he started walking towards her, his own strides long and determined.

They met in the middle, with Gibbs staggering back a step under the force her embrace. Her arms wrapped around him tightly, her face buried against the side of his neck as she inhaled deeply, savouring the feel of his arms wrapping around her own waist.

"It's okay, Abs. I'm okay." He brushed his lips to the top of her head, holding her close, reluctant to loosen his grip when she moved against him. She tilted her face up, holding his gaze for a few seconds. "I really am okay."

"I thought..." She shook her head, her eyes shining. "When they called, I thought I wouldn't get the chance..."

"Shh, Abs." He rocked her slightly in his arms, ignoring the slowly dissipating crowds and those who stubbornly remained where they stood, watching the reunion intently. He brought a hand up to her face, catching the lone tear that escaped with his thumb. Keeping her face tilted up to his, he lowered his mouth to hers slowly, giving her plenty of time to pull away.

She didn't, instead pressing herself close, lifting a hand to thread through his hair as their lips touched. Hesitant at first, then the adrenaline kicked in. Gibbs moved a hand to the back of her head, fingers tangling in her hair as he held her in place so he could deepen the kiss. His tongue duelled with hers, devouring her, pouring everything he felt and everything he'd tried to hide into the kiss. Abby, for her part, kissed him back with just as much urgency, clinging to him, trying to press herself even closer.

They broke apart, both breathless and panting slightly, to the sound of catcalls and wolf whistles. Abby blushed and buried her face against him, hiding her grin. Gibbs ran his hands through her hair, down her back, savouring the moment.

"Why don't we continue this at home?" He asked, keeping his voice low.

Abby's smile was blinding. "I think that's the best idea you've ever had."

*****


	10. Chapter 10

*****

Their neighbours were waiting for them when they got home but both Gibbs and Abby ignored them. They stumbled into the house, the door slamming behind them. There was a lot of laughter, a lot of fumbling with each other's clothes and tripping over obstacles between the front door and the bedroom.

Relief made them giddy, adrenaline made their actions urgent. Touches were teasing, drawing muffled laughter and contented sighs. Gibbs ran his fingers over her ribs lightly, delighting in her giggles, committing the strokes and places that drew them from her to memory for future reference. In response, Abby explored his chest with the tips of her fingers, her teeth grazing lightly against his sensitised skin.

They rose and fell together, exploring, kissing, caressing. Neither held back, neither had second thoughts or doubts that what they were doing was undeniably right.

It was a long time before they surfaced from the bedroom, Abby dressed in one of Gibbs' shirts and Gibbs wearing a pair of boxer shorts, as they made their way from their room to the kitchen-diner at the back of the house.

He wrapped his arms around her from behind as she started to fix them dinner, nuzzling the side of her neck with his lips, grinning at the giggle it drew from her.

"Keep that up and we won't be eating any time soon," she warned him with a mock glare, relaxing against his chest with a contented sigh.

Gibbs' stomach growled as if in protest but he made no attempt at dropping his arms from around her waist. "I'll try to keep my hands to myself then."

His lips grazed her neck again and she laughed, nudging him with her elbow. "It's not your hands I'm overtly concerned about."

In retaliation, he moved his hands up, fingers skirting lightly over her ribs before coming to rest under the gentle swell of her breasts. "Well in that case..."

"Gibbs!" She shrugged the shoulder he let his chin rest against, trying and failing to keep the smile from showing on her face. When his lips brushed her neck again, she gave up on trying to prepare something for them to eat and turned in his arms, lacing her own around his neck. "Why don't we order take out instead?"

Gibbs gave her a wolfish grin, leaning down slightly to capture her lips in a searing kiss before drawing back, pressing his lips against the tip of her nose affectionately. "Good idea, Abs."

*****

Food was ordered and eaten curled up together on the couch. They were reluctant to leave each other's company even for just a short while, neither able to chase away the fears of the afternoons events completely.

"I really thought you were going to die in there," Abby mumbled against his chest, her words muffled against him as she brushed a kiss over his heart. Gibbs' arm tightened around her in response but he held his tongue; he knew her well enough to know she needed to talk about it, to get it off her mind so she could go to sleep. "I thought the next time I saw you would be on some slab in a morgue somewhere and I'd never get the chance to tell you..."

Her voice faltered. He kissed the top of her head, shifting his body on the couch so they were lying rather than sitting, her body draped over his. "It's okay, Abs. You don't have to..."

"I want to." Lifting her head, she looked at him with a familiar, determined expression that made the corners of his mouth lift. "You know I love you, right?" Green eyes searched blue as she stared at him intently. "Not just in the way I love the others but more than that, too."

He let a hand rise to touch her cheek, smiling when she leaned into his palm. "I know, Abby. I love you, too."

Her brow furrowed, her eyes holding his. Gibbs waited for her to say what was on her mind but she didn't, choosing to lower her head back down to his chest and wrap her arms around him tightly instead.

"Abs. Look at me."

She refused at first, leaving him with no choice but to turn them so his back was to the room, her body pressed between his and the back of the couch. She tilted her face up then, her mouth open in order to protest but he silenced her, swiftly pressing his mouth against hers. He felt the hands she moved to push him away curl around his shoulders, her fingernails digging in just a little as she gave into his demands with a wordless sigh.

When he moved back, her eyes were dazed and her lips were swollen. He allowed himself a brief second of smug satisfaction that he was responsible for it before his expression grew solemn, his eyes serious as they locked with hers.

"I love you, Abby," he murmured, his hand gentle at her cheek but with enough pressure to keep her from looking away. "Do you think I'd let something happen between us if I didn't?"

He could tell she wanted to break eye contact but she couldn't bring herself to do it. She swallowed and her tongue darted out to moisten her lips in what he recognised to be an uncertain gesture. "I know you care about me," she hedged, her voice soft, almost too quiet to hear. "But I know I'm not..." She broke off, a line marring her brow as she struggled to find words to explain what she wanted to say. "I know you're still in love with Shannon, and I know I'm nothing like the other women you've dated or married, for that matter, and I know what you feel for me is different and I'm okay with that. I don't expect you to say something that isn't true and I don't expect anything more than you can give me in return. I just want to be with you for as long as you'll be with me..."

His frown deepened throughout her babbled ramble and he found himself kissing her again, the only way he could think of to end the tirade. Again, he pulled back but this time he let a finger rest against her lips. "You're not Shannon but that doesn't mean I can't love you, too, Abby. You of all people should know there's no limit on how many people a person can care for." He arched an eyebrow when he felt her lips part to protest under his finger. "You're not like any of my ex-wives and for that, I'm grateful. There's a reason those marriages didn't work and I don't want our relationship to go down that path. I love you. *You*, Abs. If you don't believe that, you don't trust me as much as you think you do."

Her gaze softened throughout his speech, and a small smile began to play on her lips. He withdrew his finger, arching a questioning eyebrow. Covering her hand with his own, Abby pressed his finger against her lips in a soft kiss before pressing his hand to her cheek.

"I don't think I've ever heard you say that much in one go," she teased lightly, her shining eyes and tender smile keeping him from feeling anything but amused at her comment. "I trust you more than I've ever trusted anyone, and I love you that much, too."

He wasn't entirely convinced she believed him but Gibbs was willing to let her get away with it for the time being. He made his way off the couch, biting back a groan as his knees and back protested before holding out a hand for her.

Hand-in-hand, they walked through to their bedroom, both pleased the nightmare of a day had a much happier ending.

*****

Waking up with his body enveloping hers was something she swore to herself she'd never take for granted. Abby snuggled into him, her eyes closed tightly as she inhaled his scent and pressed her cheek against the smattering of hair on his chest. His hand was splayed out possessively over the small of her back, his fingers twitching as he stirred back into consciousness.

"Do you have to go to work today?" She asked softly, fingers idly drawing meaningless shapes against his skin.

"I should." His hand trailed along her spine, his lips curving in a smile when he felt her shiver against him. "First class isn't till ten, though."

"Ten?" Lifting her head, Abby glanced at the clock on the bedside cabinet beside them. It was her turn to smile, a mischievous sparkle in her eye when she met his gaze. "So we've got at least two hours before you need to leave..."

"Hmm." Gibbs wrapped his arms around her as she leaned up to kiss him softly, rolling them gently so her supple form was fully cocooned by his own. "What you would suggest we do with those two hours, Mrs. Gibbs?"

A giggle escaped her as she wound her own arms around his neck, drawing him down for another kiss as she moved a leg to wrap around his own. "Oh, I'm sure we can think of something..."

*****

The next few days passed in a blissful daze. They alternately behaved like newly-weds and an old married couple, and no acting was required. More often than not, Gibbs would get home to find Abby engrossed in her work and then they'd cook together, exchanging stories about their day, often indulging in the flirtatious banter that had become such a staple of their relationship over the years though both enjoyed the newfound freedom they had in being able to express their affection physically.

On the Friday night of their first full week living together on the base, Abby decided to make a slight change to their routine. She had a meal prepared for the moment he walked through the door and plenty of chilled white wine. Following the meal, leaving him to load the dishwasher and to top-up their wine glasses, Abby filled the bath with steaming hot water and a generous amount of the bubble bath that had been included in her gift set from the hotel's spa. She had plans for the other items, too, for later on in the evening.

Soon they were settled together in the bath, one of Gibbs' arms wrapped around her as they sipped from their glasses and let the warm water lull them into a soothed state.

"Don't expect this kind of thing every night," Abby warned drowsily, letting her head fall back to rest against his shoulder. "I'm never going to be the domestic goddess type."

His lips curled up and he brushed his lips against her head, the arm that was wound around her shifting under water to stroke the smooth skin of her stomach. "I'd disagree about the goddess part."

Chuckling, she let her eyes drift shut. "Smooth, Gibbs, real smooth."

"I try."

For a few moments, all was silent as they enjoyed their wine and one another's company. It was Abby who broke it with a sigh, setting her glass down on the side of the bank with a soft clunk before twisting in his arms, legs tangling with his as she shifted in his lap to face him.

Seeing the serious look on her face, Gibbs took a final gulp of his own wine before setting it down next to hers. "What's wrong, Abs?"

"Nothing's wrong." The smile she tried to give him fell after a few seconds and her gaze dropped to his mouth. "I was just thinking today..." Her eyes lifted and she looked at him through lowered eyelashes. "You know we can't get this marriage annulled anymore, right? The only way we could've done that is to leave it unconsummated and, well, you know." A blush spread across her cheeks. "That's not an option anymore."

"What are you saying, Abby?" He held himself still, forcing his hands to stay at her waist. "Do you want to get a divorce...?"

Her eyes darted up to meet his before skittering away again. "Do you?"

It was a strange place to be having a conversation on divorce and hadn't featured in Abby's plans for the evening. Her heart pounded in her chest, more so when he lifted a hand to touch her cheek, pushing away a damp lock of curled hair from her face.

"Look at me, Abby." He spoke quietly but with a note of authority she couldn't ignore. Abby looked up, more out of instinct than anything else, and the expression on his face made her melt. "It's a piece of paper. It doesn't have to change anything. Married or not, I want to be with you. Just you."

Her answering smile was blinding, and the kiss she bestowed on him was deep and sweet. His arms wrapped around her, drawing her close as water sloshed against and over the sides of the bath.

*****

Gibbs hadn't expected to find someone he enjoyed spending so much time with after Shannon and Kelly's deaths. He'd liked his quiet time throughout each of his subsequent marriages – perhaps a contributing factor in each of his divorces – and had grown to resent feeling like he had to spend his valuable downtime with his wives when all he'd really wanted to do was work on his boat alone.

His relationship – marriage – to Abby was again more like his first in that respect.

He had no basement or boat to work on and, while he'd thought he'd miss it, he found he only gave it the barest of thoughts. Even then, if he found himself wishing for the familiar smell of sawdust and feel of wood beneath his fingertips, he found himself imaging sharing it with Abby, either working on the coffin she'd once told the Director she was making or just being able to sense her presence while he got on with his work.

He was surprised to find himself enjoying their weekend together, even when she insisted on dragging him to a local park for a picnic lunch on the Saturday, followed by drinks in a bar not too far from the base before they retired back to their home. It wasn't much of a hardship, if he was honest, to spend the day with his arms around her, kissing her in public without worrying who was watching or what they were thinking. He knew his team were observing them; he'd spotted McGee once and he could sense they were being watched as they walked hand-in-hand beneath the shade of the trees in the park. It didn't bother him, which was another reason for his surprise at how comfortable a fit he and Abby were.

Sunday was much the same as Saturday, though he was amused to find Abby refused to let him leave their bed until midday – with the exception of using the bathroom and making them both a cup of coffee, of course. Sunday morning's were for lazing around in bed according to his raven-haired wife and he found he had no complaints on the matter when she curled up beside him, her head on his shoulder as he read through the newspapers he'd collected from the porch while waiting for their coffee.

They were almost inseparable and it was with a great deal of reluctance that he let her shoo him from the house on Sunday afternoon, a beautiful smile on her face to go with the glint in her eye as she promised him what she was planning would be well worth the wait. He'd caught a glimpse of the massage oils she'd bought from the hotel, oils they'd planned to use on Friday but hadn't got round to after their shared bath and had no doubt he'd enjoy whatever scheme she was concocting but leaving her behind while he went to get some groceries – she'd supplied him with a list for that, too – wasn't something he was altogether comfortable with and he wasn't sure why.

Returning to the house an hour later, half of the groceries forgotten as his instincts screamed louder, Gibbs let the bags he was carrying fall to the floor as he noticed the front door wasn't fully closed.

He reached for a weapon that wasn't there, that was securely hidden in a drawer in their bedroom in keeping with their cover story, and found himself breaking out into a cold sweat as he swept through the empty rooms, listening intently, hoping his infamous gut was wrong.

His cell phone was in his hand when he reached the kitchen, Tony's voice coming loud and clear through the speaker as he glanced at the shattered glass on the floor, fear clenching around his heart in an unrelenting vice when he noticed the patches of what was unmistakably blood leading to the back door.

"Our guy's broken the pattern, DiNozzo. Get a team here ASAP."

He hung up without waiting for a response, picking his way over the broken glass to turn the heat off on the oven. His wedding ring felt heavy on his finger, an uncomfortable reminder of who was lost.

*****


	11. Chapter 11

*****

Abby had been singing to herself in the kitchen when she'd heard footsteps in the hallway. She hadn't reacted at first, a smile on her lips as she thought Gibbs' had simply returned early. It was only when she noticed that there was something wrong with the reflection approaching her in the kitchen mirror that she started to turn, the scent of cigarette smoke replacing the faded smell of sawdust mingling with Old Spice she'd come to adore.

She'd only managed a half-turn before the intruder struck her, causing her to drop the glass dish she'd been holding, the pieces shattering to the ground as she fell to her knees, slicing her palm on a jagged edge.

She turned her head to look at the person towering over, her eyes widening when she recognised the face of the person who lifted a hand to strike her again.

One more blow, delivered with striking force and near-deadly accuracy, and the world around her went black.

*****

Nausea rolled in her stomach. Her head ached, a dull pain that didn't dissapate when she opened her eyes to find herself in a darkened, damp room. Abby pushed against the ground, pausing for a moment both to let her stomach settle and to let her mind register what she was feeling.

Mud. Her fingers dug in, her nails digging deep, and the scent of dirt and damp wood filled her nostrils.

"You might want to wait till your eyes adjust before you move," a voice advised her from somewhere over her shoulder. "It's dark and there are roots all over the place."

"Who are you?" Her voice hoarse, Abby narrowed her eyes, trying to see an outline of the person she was speaking to in the dark.

"My name's Monica," the voice responded, quiet and humourless. "Welcome to hell."

Monica Colgan, Abby recalled dimly. The missing wife of the second dead marine. Abby swallowed the lump in her throat. Did she know her husband was dead..? Did that mean... Was Gibbs dead? She searched her memory for the details of the case file, details she thought she'd had memorised but which her aching head couldn't quite provide her with. All of the husbands had been found dead at the scene of the crime, she remembered. But then all of the crime scene photos had suggested that the murderer had interrupted a moment between the couples, perhaps using it as a distraction so she could get close to them.

Gibbs hadn't been at home so he was safe, wasn't he? She shook herself mentally when image after image crashed through her mind, tearing a low, agonised groan from her throat. Maybe she'd already killed Gibbs. Maybe she'd run his car off the road or followed him into the grocery store and done something to him there...

She. Linda. The masseuse from the hotel.

Abby shuddered and forced herself to straighten, her eyes still scouring the darkness for her companion. "Where are we?"

"Other than hell, I'm not sure." Monica's voice relayed her exhaustion and her position to Abby, who slowly felt her way across the ground to where the other woman sat. "Hey!"

"Sorry." Pulling her hand back from the other woman's knee, Abby manoeuvred herself into a sitting position beside her. "My name's Abby. Abby Gibbs. I don't suppose you've heard anyone else down here...?"

If Monica heard the hope in her voice, she didn't let it show. "There was a woman. Brenda." Monica's tone was flat. "She's dead."

"Dead?" Her own voice a surprised squeak, Abby pressed a hand against her rolling stomach. "How did she die?"

Brenda Cole, the second missing woman, had disappeared almost a week before Monica.

"She tried to escape. He came to have his fun with me, left the door open. Brenda made a break for it but he shot her."

"Who's he? The person who brought me here was a woman." Abby frowned, drawing her knees up to her chest.

"The person who knocked you out was a woman," Monica corrected, her hand brushing against Abby's shoulder as she tried to locate the newcomer. "The person who brought you here was her brother."

Abby took a moment to process the information and let her hand rise to link with Monica's. Even that little bit of contact between the stranger, between her fellow captive, provided a small measure of comfort. "Have either of them said why we're here? What they want with us? I mean, why didn't they just kill us?"

"Like they did our husbands?" Monica asked, her fingers tightening momentarily on Abby's. "He told us they'd killed them. I'm sorry. Yours is probably dead, too." A few moments of strained silence passed between them as Abby reverently wished she could deny Monica's claim, wished she could be absolutely certain that Gibbs was okay. "As for why we're here, we're the merchandise. When they've got enough of us, they'll sell us on."

"Sell us? To who?" Abby's stomach began to churn, her heart racing in her chest.

"The highest bidder," Monica replied flatly. "Whoever that may be."

*****

The forensics team had swept the house from top to bottom. Gibbs hoped they'd find a trace of someone other than himself and Abby but he doubted it. He ran a hand through his already tousled hair, pacing the length of the small living room, wondering how it could seem far more claustrophobic without Abby in it than it had when they'd been there together.

"Boss?" Tony stood in the doorway, his concern evident in his expression. "We talked to the neighbours. None of them saw anything out of the ordinary."

"I was gone an hour at most, DiNozzo." Gibbs kept his back to his agent for a few moments, staring blankly around the room Abby had made into a home for them both. "Whoever did this was watching the house. They had to be." He shrugged a shoulder and glanced at Tony over his shoulder. "Find out who was in the area at the time, whether they're a stranger or not."

"You think one of the neighbours is in on it?" Tony took a small step forward into the room as Gibbs turned more fully to face him.

"Whoever did this was in the area," Gibbs repeated. "Me leaving wasn't part of a routine they could've already studied. It wasn't planned in advance. They had to be close to know Abby was on her own."

"Maybe they didn't," Tony pointed out. "It would fit with the pattern if they thought you'd be here together. Maybe it was luck, in a way, that you weren't here." He shrugged when his boss merely looked at him. "If you'd been here, maybe you'd be dead like the others. It's better for Abby that you can help look for her."

Gibbs was silent for a long moment before he nodded grudgingly. "We'll find her."

"We will, Boss."

*****


	12. Chapter 12

_So many thank yous for all of the reviews - you guys are amazing, completely. *hugs to all of you*_

*****

Human trafficking.

She'd never thought about it as a possibility when the case had first been handed to them. She, like the rest of the team, had thought it was the work of an individual; most of the cases they had turned out to be so.

Abby wrapped her arms around herself tightly. Her companion, Monica, was sleeping fitfully, her head resting on Abby's shoulder as though she was drawing comfort from the physical presence of the other woman.

The room they were in was more like a cavern than an actual room but it had walls and a door that a glimmer of light snuck through. There was no floor, just dirt, and Monica had been right; the tree roots were a definite hazard.

Her eyes kept straying to the door, to the shadows she could see playing underneath it. She couldn't be sure if they were real or if they were her imagination, couldn't decide if there was really someone there or if it was her mind playing tricks on her.

Claustrophobia swamped her, surprising her. She'd never been afraid of dark spaces before - the coffin she sometimes slept in was a testament to that – but the room was not at all comforting, dark and big yet somehow too small and uncomfortable. Her chest tightened and she struggled to breathe. Abby forced herself to close her eyes and take deep breaths but it didn't work, didn't ease the panic threatening to consume her.

"We could make a break for it." Monica's voice took her by surprise but somehow managed to ground her, reminding her she wasn't alone. "He'll be here in an hour or so, to check you're okay and bring us some water. She'll have gone to work by now. Can't stay away too long or people would notice."

Abby's interest stirred and she glanced over at the faint outline of the woman beside her. "You recognised her, too?"

"Sure." In the darkness, Monica shrugged. "She was my masseuse. We couldn't afford an expensive honeymoon but Davey insisted I get the full works at the hotel." There was a smile in her voice, no doubt bittersweet in the aftermath of her husband's murder. "While I was being pampered, my husband was arranging a romantic candlelit dinner for two in our suite. He said he'd make it up to but I didn't think he had anything to make up for. It was perfect the way it was."

Silence fell for a few moments. Abby recalled her own honeymoon, wishing she'd had the nerve to act on her feelings for Gibbs while they had the full facilities of the hotel at their disposal. Not that they'd have left the room much, she thought with a faint blush, and not that they could've gotten away with it with the team watching out for them but the thought was nice. She heard Monica describe her honeymoon and felt a little envious, though guilt followed swiftly when she remembered that Monica's husband was dead while her own...

She swallowed hard and closed her eyes for a moment. "Do you think there's a chance we'll be able to get out of here alive?"

Monica shrugged, stirring the darkness with the action. "If it's just one of them. If it's both of them, we probably shouldn't try it but if only one of them shows up..."

"Which one of them had the gun?" Abby asked quietly. "We're not doing this if there's a chance one of us will get hurt."

"The guy had the gun," Monica answered after a moment. "He was using it to try and get Brenda to do what he wanted. He said it was a perk of the job to be able to sample the goods."

Abby's jaw clenched, her hands tightening into fists. "If he tries, he'll regret it."

"That's what Brenda thought," Monica mumbled. "Turns out she was the one who did, though."

She reached between them to take Monica's hand, needing the comfort of physical contact with the other woman to boost her courage. "If only one of them comes, we'll make a run for it."

Monica's grip was tight, her palm clammy as she held Abby's hand. "I just want to get out of here," she admitted quietly. "I just want the nightmare to be over."

Making a vow to herself that it would be soon, Abby gave her hand a squeeze and went back to watching the shadows under the door, shoulders tensed as she waited to move.

*****

The forensics team had asked them to leave the house to give them room. Gibbs stood outside, staring at it with a clenched jaw as his agents got on with their jobs. They'd decided to try and keep as much of the cover story intact and had instead told those curious enough to ask that he had a friend in NCIS who had sent the team to investigate Abby's abduction.

Ziva approached cautiously, having been warned by Tony that Gibbs' mood was somewhat sombre. She waited until he acknowledged her with the slight inclination of his head before talking, her gaze straying meaningfully to where McGee stood talking to Cara Bale. "I believe she may know more than she is saying."

"Cara?" Gibbs' gaze immediately focused on the redhead, his brow furrowed. "You think she's involved?"

"Not exactly." Ziva shrugged when her boss looked at her with an impatient expression. "I believe she is hiding something though I am not sure if it is relevant to the situation." She hesitated, and then reached out to put a hand on his arm. "We will find her, Gibbs."

Gibbs glanced down at her hand before looking up at her face. "I'll talk to Cara. If she knows anything, I'll get it out of her."

Ziva let her hand drop and watched him stalk over to the redhead, noticing the set of his shoulders, the tension in his back. A hand rose to the necklace she wore, a simple sign of her faith, and she sent up a silent prayer for her missing friend.

*****

"I'm not hiding anything," Cara protested, her arms wrapped around her upper body as she avoided Gibbs' unrelenting gaze. "It's just not that important, that's all."

"We'll decide what's important and what's not, Cara." Gibbs waited until she looked at him, his expression as neutral as he could keep it. "The smallest thing could help us find her."

Cara glanced away, staring almost longingly at her own home, no doubt wishing she could escape inside it. "There was a woman," she said after a short pause. "I've seen her around before so I thought nothing of it at first."

McGee jotted something down on his notepad and Gibbs clenched his jaw against leading the questioning. "What did she look like?" McGee asked, his pen poised over the paper.

"Medium height, brown hair, pretty but nothing special." Cara shrugged and tossed her red hair over her shoulder. "Like I said, I've seen her around before. She probably has nothing to do with Abby's abduction."

"Probably not," McGee kept his voice non-committal. "What time did you see her? And where?"

Cara shifted from foot to foot, obviously uncomfortable. "It was just before two. I saw her pull up in her truck across the street. It only sticks out in my mind because I saw her walk up the path to your house instead of next door. I thought maybe she'd got confused and would turn around and realise her mistake but she let herself in instead. I figured she'd realise she was in the wrong house, get embarrassed and leave so I left them to it."

"You said you expected her to go next door. Is that Mr. Lewis?" McGee glanced towards the Lewis household. "Have you seen the woman there before?"

"Yes." Cara gave a short nod. "I figured they were having an affair while his wife's away. She's been around a couple of times. I was going to tell Susan when she gets home." She glanced at Gibbs, paling at the hard look on his face. "Can I go now? My husband's due to call me tonight and I don't want to miss it."

McGee looked briefly at Gibbs before nodding, closing the notepad. "You can go, Mrs. Bale. We'll be in touch."

Evidently relieved, Cara fled. Gibbs turned to look at the man Tony was questioning, his blue eyes hard. Ken looked over, his brow shining with perspiration, and noticeably blanched "Tell DiNozzo to bring him in for questioning."

Automatically reaching for his gun in case it became necessary, McGee headed over to his teammate, hoping they'd found the lead they needed.

*****

"Ken? I know you're ignoring me. You were supposed to be here an hour ago. If you think for one minute you're going to get a full fee for this, you are severely mistaken. I am not a woman to be messed around, Mr. Lewis, and you should think about that before you decide not to show up again." An angry sigh interrupted the rant. "If you don't call me in the next hour, I'll assume you've changed your mind and no longer want a piece of the pie."

There was a loud, reverberating sound as the call was ended and the phone was thrown down in a fit of fury.

On the other side of the door, inside the dark room, Abby and Monica waited with baited breath, waiting either side to pounce.

It was clear to them that Linda wasn't happy, that she'd been let down by her partner in crime. Abby gave a small start at the name she used but talked herself out of the idea that it could've been her neighbour the masseuse was referring to. It would explain how she'd managed to get onto a military base without raising too many questions but she'd be disappointed with herself if she hadn't picked up his hinkiness on it through her few dealings with her neighbour.

The two women waited, anticipation and nerves churning their stomachs. They heard a key turn in a lock and tensed, listening to Linda mutter to herself as she unlocked the door and opened it.

"Now!" Abby shouted, moving forward to push the masseuse out of the way to leave the doorway clear for their exit.

She heard a muffled curse and an indignant scream, then everything was lost in the rush of blood pounding through her head and her own breathing as she and Monica ran for their lives, out of the damp room into a hallway that was more like a cave, with walls supported by rotting wooden beams.

They made it outside when the crunch of branches and leaves under their feet replaced the slanted mud path scattered with roots and she realised they had been underground when she glanced over her shoulder and saw only a small hut above the surface. Trees surrounded them and her brain tried to identify their location as they ran, hands clasped tightly.

They ran faster, pushing themselves harder, when they heard a shout from behind. Bark flew from a nearby tree, confusing her at first until her mind registered the sound of a telltale bang.

"She's got a gun," she shouted across to Monica, instinctively ducking as another shot was fired.

She glanced at her companion and saw fear in her eyes, knew it was mirrored in her own.

Another small explosion and a cry of pain echoed throughout the trees.

*****


	13. Chapter 13

*****

McGee and Tony sat opposite Ken Lewis in the interrogation room, both conscious of the fact their boss was watching on the other side of the one-way glass, both aware that the interrogation they were about to conduct might be the differed between life and death for their missing friend.

"We know you've got something to do with Mrs. Gibbs' abduction," Tony started. A brief part of his mind reminded him it was strange to refer to Abby as Gibbs' wife but he pushed it aside, focusing on the job at hand. "The woman we believe took her has been seen entering your home on a number of occasions."

"I don't know who you're talking about, and I have no clue what's happened to Abby." Ken crossed his hands on the table in front of him, his knuckles white. His brow was damp with sweat, his eyes darting nervously from side to side. "I hope you find her."

"I'm sure you do." Tony leaned back in his chair, glaring at their suspect, letting McGee know without words that it was his turn to take over.

"If you tell us what you know, it'll help you when this ends up in court." McGee, reluctantly, slipped into the role of good cop. He didn't want to be nice to the creep they suspected of helping Abby's abductor; he wanted to reach across the table and grab the guy, shaking him till he gave in instead. "Your neighbour believes you were having an affair with this woman. It's understandable if you are. Your wife's been away for seven months, you're lonely..." McGee shrugged and tried to look sympathetic. "If you just give us her name, we can interview her and cross you off the list."

"I'm not having an affair," Ken insisted, momentarily meeting McGee's gaze. He ran a hand through his hair and the two NCIS agents noticed it was shaking.

Tony stood suddenly, his chair flying across the room. He leaned forward, shamelessly intruding on Ken's personal space. "You're either having an affair or you're an accessory in two murders and three abductions. What's it to be, Ken? You wanna start telling the truth or do we let Abby's husband in here so he can beat it out of you?"

Ken's eyes widened and he looked over his shoulder towards the door as though he expected Gibbs to be there. "I might know the woman you're talking about but I had nothing to do with any murders. I swear. That's not my job."

"Not your job?" McGee took over again as Tony went to retrieve his seat. "So you are involved?"

Running his hand through his hair again, Ken stared at the top of the table. "If I tell you what I know, it'll help, right? I mean, you'll go easy on me? At court?"

"Depends on what you tell us." Tony shrugged noncommittally as he sat down once more. "Tell us everything you know and we'll see what we can do."

Over the course of an hour, he admitted to his role in the crime. He explained that he'd been approached by a woman called Linda, a woman he'd met in the bar of a hotel – the same hotel Abby and Gibbs had enjoyed their husband. He said she paid him generously to transport the goods – women she'd identified as being marketable in a foreign market. Gibbs had only just managed to keep himself still when Ken had almost boasted of how he got to 'test out the merchandise' as a perk of the job, that his role mainly concerned transferring the women from their homes to the van and from the van to Linda's safe house while she took care of their husbands.

He insisted he'd never killed anyone, though admitted that Brenda Cole had died in an accident.

He gave them directions that led to an abandoned house and explained that it was a tunnel that led to an abandoned mine that Linda had turned into a prison.

The team left without a second's hesitation, getting two phone calls on their way to the scene.

One was that the woman had been identified as Linda Sommers, the masseuse from the hotel. The other was to tell them that there'd been a reporting of shots fired in the woods they were driving to.

Gibbs ground his teeth and put his foot down, hoping it wasn't too late.

*****

Blood oozed from the wound, soaking through the torn strip of material from Abby's shirt. She wiped a blood stained hand over her cheek, pushing her hair back from her face as she gazed down at Monica as the other woman struggled to catch her breath.

"Go," Monica murmured, her voice hoarse with the effort of talking through the pain. "She'll be here soon and she'll kill you if she finds you."

Abby shook her head, moisture stinging her eyes. "I'm not going to leave you on your own."

Monica tried to smile but failed, her eyes already growing dull. "I'm not going to make it, Abby. We both know that."

"You will make it," Abby retorted, her own voice thick with tears. "I'm not leaving you to die, Monica. We're gonna get of this. Together."

Shaking her head, Monica reached for Abby's hand. Her cold fingers wrapped around Abby's wrist in a grip Abby could have easily broken if she wanted to. "I've got no fight left in me." Tears ran down her cheeks, cutting through the dirt that had accumulated over her capture. "Let me go and get out of here while you can. My husband's dead, Abby, but yours... Your husband might still be alive."

Twisting her hand, Abby brought Monica's hand to her face, pressing it against her cheek as the other woman shuddered uncontrollably. She wanted to scream and shout with the injustice of it all but knew she couldn't, not when Linda was still around. "I'm sorry," she murmured instead. "I'm sorry I let you down."

Monica smiled and shook her head, her face lined with pain. "You'll only let me down if you let her hurt you, too. Go. Go now, while you can."

Abby hesitated, her expression pained. She held onto Monica's hand as the other woman's breathing became more and more laboured before eventually stopping, her eyes staring up sightlessly at the clear blue sky that seemed to mock them through the branches at the top of the trees.

Fighting back the cry that threatened to escape, Abby lowered Monica's arm to her side. She closed Monica's eyes with gentle fingers and struggled to her feet.

She'd twisted her ankle in the fall and the irony of the situation didn't fail to occur to her; she'd only been given the assignment due to Ziva suffering from a similar injury when she'd tripped over McGee's dog, Jethro. Ironic that an injury that brought her a relationship she'd dreamt of could also be the cause of her losing it along with her life, too.

Taking a deep breath, she squared her shoulders against the pain and forced herself to move on.

*****

The room was empty, though Gibbs expected nothing less. It didn't take long for them to determine it was a dead end – figuratively and literally – and move the direction of their search to the woodland surrounding it.

Recent tracks showed three sets of footsteps and his blood ran cold when they encountered a spent casing – still warm – on the ground.

"Spread out," he ordered unnecessarily. "She's here somewhere."

The 'she' he was referring to was Abby, though it was true of their killer, too. McGee and Ziva off in one direction while Tony and Gibbs continued on, trying to follow the tracks.

A short distance away, they encountered the body of Monica Colgan.

They'd made it ten steps when another shot rang out, both men reaching for their guns as they started to run in the direction it had come from.

*****


	14. Chapter 14

*****

"Freeze! Move one step and I swear to God, I'll kill you, too." There was a note of hysteria in Linda's voice, one that led Abby to follow the command without hesitation. "Turn around. Slowly. Put your hands in the air."

She did as she was told and though she knew who she'd be facing, it still came as a shock. "I'm unarmed," she said, fighting to contain the tremble in her voice. "Just stay calm and we can talk about this."

"Talk about it?" Linda snorted indelicately, waving the gun in her hand. "Do you know how long I've been planning this? Do you know how much work it took setting this up? Now I'm going to have to start again, create a whole new identity... Do you know how much money I'll have lost by the time I'm ready to start again? Don't tell me to calm down, Mrs. Gibbs! You have no idea how much you've cost me."

"I know it won't be anywhere near as much as what you've cost the families of the couples you've killed." Abby lowered her arms slowly, her body aching with the effort of staying still despite the adrenaline racing through it. "How many times have you set up operations like this? How many lives have you ruined?"

Linda shrugged, entirely unapologetic. "That is none of your concern." Lifting the gun, she took aim at Abby, her eyes cold and calculating. "It didn't have to be this way, Mrs. Gibbs. You didn't have to die."

"I'd rather die that be a slave to whoever pays you the most." Abby clenched her jaw and fought the urge to wrap her arms around her stomach defensively. It wouldn't do any good; nothing would stop the bullet waiting to be fired in her direction.

"I'm glad you see it that way," Linda muttered. Her finger moved and Abby's eyes slid shut.

A shot rang out and the birds in the trees above screeched in protest as their evening was disturbed once again.

A dull thud signalled a body falling to the floor.

*****

His heart pounded as he lowered his gun, automatically moving forward towards her. Abby's eyes opened and locked with his and Gibbs quickened his pace, opening his arms as she moved forward, her body hitting his with enough force to knock the breath out of his lungs but he couldn't bring himself to mind.

"It's okay, Abs. I've got you." He cradled her close, felt her body shiver against his. Felt the hot warmth of her tears against his neck and tightened his hold. He trusted his agents to take care of the body, to do their jobs and process the scene. His only concern was the woman trembling in his arms.

His wife.

"Monica's dead," Abby mumbled, her voice muffled against his chest as she wrapped her arms around him just as tightly. "She was shot when we were running. I tried to save her, Gibbs. I tried..."

"Shh, Abs." His lips brushed against the top of her head. "We found her. She'll be taken care of now. It's over. It's all over."

*****

It was with more than a small degree of sadness that Abby stood in the living room of the house she'd made into a home, preparing to say goodbye to it. She'd packed all of the items she and Gibbs and bought together, telling herself she'd find a home for them in her apartment or that she'd sneak them into Gibbs' place when he wasn't looking.

She let a hand on rest on her hip, tilting her head to one side as she surveyed the room, wondering how it could go from feeling like a home to an empty house in such a short space of time.

As much as she was looking forward to getting back to her real life, to her lab and her babies and Bert the hippo, she was going to miss the lives they'd created for themselves, too.

Her gaze dropped to the small coffee table in front of her, fell on the sheets of paper that had been delivered by courier that morning and couldn't quite stifle the sigh that escaped her.

"Hey." Gibbs wrapped his arms around her, drawing her back against his chest as he let his chin rest on her shoulder. "You about ready to go?"

"As ready as I'm going to be." She tried to fix a smile on her face and turned around in his arms. "Did you take care of everything you needed to?"

"Yep." He leaned in and kissed her softly. "Johansson's admitted his role in Corporal Foster's dismissal. There'll be an investigation but it looks like he'll be reinstated."

"You're a good man, Leroy Jethro Gibbs." She smiled at him fondly, winding her arms around his neck. "Do you know if they've contacted Ken's wife?"

Gibbs nodded slowly, his expression sympathetic. "Major Lewis has chosen to stay where she is but she's started divorce proceedings. She wants nothing more to do with him and I can't blame her for it."

"Neither can I." She bit her lip and broke away from him, leaning down to scoop up the papers on the table. "These were delivered after you left. Director Vance had them sent over."

He took them from her and scanned the documents quickly. Abby wrapped her arms around herself, feeling cold without his arms around her. "Annulment papers?"

"No one knows we consummated our vows, Gibbs." She shrugged one shoulder, unable to look him in the eyes. "If you wanted, we could get an annulment. It'd be less messy than getting a divorce."

"Is that what you want?" Gibbs kept his voice even, his expression emotionless when she looked up at him. "If it is, I'll sign it now."

Abby bit down on her bottom lip again, her hands gripping her arms almost painfully. "And if it isn't? If I want to stay married to you? Even if no one but us knows it?"

Without a word, he took the papers in his hands and waited until she looked at him again. Gripping both sides firmly, he held her gaze as he tore the sheets of paper in half. Screwing the two halves up into balls, he threw them into the wastepaper bin next to the fireplace and reached out to take her hand when the deed was done.

"Let's go home," he murmured, picking up the box on the sofa with the hand that wasn't wrapped around hers.

Realising in that moment that her home would be wherever he was, Abby gave him one of her brightest smiles and let him lead her out of the house, back to the rest of their lives.

*****

End.

There will be a short fluff/smut-filled sequel of sorts. Soon. Ish.


End file.
